


Found You Again in this Wilderness

by jonius_belonius (Joni_Beloni)



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Dom Mike, Drama, M/M, Romance, S5 spoilers, sub Harvey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 10:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4621764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joni_Beloni/pseuds/jonius_belonius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mike witnesses the frightening spectacle of Harvey in the midst of a panic attack, he decides to step in and help him deal with his issues in the best way he knows how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here is my take on bottom!Harvey. This will have a few chapters, probably not a ton of them, but never say never, right? I can't promise regular updates, since I have some other projects I intend to focus on. I'll refrain from cliffhangers, though. As noted in the tags, this first chapter contains some spoilers to S5.

"It's not a heart attack," Harvey gasped, face pale and clammy. "It's a panic attack."

Mike froze, the phone receiver momentarily forgotten in his hand. He was still trying to formulate a coherent response to this bombshell, when Jack Soloff appeared at Harvey's door, ready for a fight.

Later, Mike would marvel at how Harvey held himself together while Jack Soloff came at him. He found himself in complete awe of Harvey's counterfeit composure. Five seconds earlier, he'd appeared on the verge of cracking apart, but he handled the brief confrontation with his usual fire.

Only Mike, who had witnessed his near collapse, could detect how thin the veneer actually was, and how close to crumbling he came from what, under normal circumstances, would have been little more than a minor tussle.

As soon as Jack stomped off to lick his wounds, Mike shut the door and helped Harvey to sit down. He caught Gretchen's eye through the glass wall, and realized that she'd seen enough to put two and two together. He gave her a tight nod, offering wordless reassurance that he had this under control.

With fumbling hands, he poured a glass of water, handed it to Harvey, and crouched in front of him, making sure he drank it, while at the same time assessing his condition. He still looked pale and shaken, his hand trembled as he lifted the glass to drink, and his chest heaved as if he had just run a punishing race.

"Better?" asked Mike.

Harvey nodded.

Not caring who might be looking through the glass, Mike placed an anchoring hand on Harvey's knee. "How long has this been going on?" Irrational as he knew it to be, inside he was berating himself for not seeing the cracks sooner, for letting Harvey suffer and fight this on his own. Mike should have had his back. Well, that was going to change.

Harvey swallowed audibly and set the glass on the coffee table. "Since Donna," he got out, speaking as if with great effort.

That made sense. The two of them had been uncommonly close for attorney and assistant. Harvey had depended on her to always be there to soften the rough edges of his life, and he'd taken her defection to Louis hard. Harder than Mike had realized. "Harvey, I'm sorry."

Harvey's brows furrowed at that. "For what?"

"For not noticing. For neglecting you. If it hadn't been for the case with Robert Zane...."

With a scowl, Harvey surged to his feet and paced to his desk. "I didn't want you to know. I didn't want anyone to know. You don't need to worry about me. This is my problem, and I'll handle it on my own."

Mike rose to his full height. "And you're obviously doing a stellar job of it." He smiled gently to take the sting out of his rebuke.

Harvey sat stiffly in his chair, seeming embarrassed by his display of weakness. "I'm doing the best I can," he muttered, not meeting Mike's eyes.

"Are you seeing someone? A professional?"

Harvey stared fixedly at his desktop for long seconds, as if deciding how to respond. "A psychiatrist," he finally whispered, sounding ashamed. "I wanted some pills...something to fix me. Something to make this all go away."

This surprised Mike, but he kept his expression neutral. "And are they working?"

Harvey shook his head and waved one hand dismissively. "I stopped taking them. I didn't like the way they made me feel. Like I was losing my edge."

"So you just thought you'd gut your way through it?"

"Yeah. Pretty much."

Harvey's gaze was still averted, and Mike took the opportunity to study him closely. From his bowed head, to his slumped shoulders, to his restlessly fidgeting hands, he was the picture of defeat and roiling anxiety, nothing like the Harvey he'd thought he had known. Mike had an inkling, a way he might be able to help Harvey. The only problem was, he had no idea how to get Harvey to agree to it, and feared that even making the suggestion might irreparably damage their friendship.

He pictured Harvey having another attack, of falling apart in a client meeting, or in front of Louis or Jessica. That eventuality concerned him more than the potential for future awkwardness between the two of them, and this realization is what decided him.

"Hey, you know what? I don't have any plans tonight. What do you say to dinner and a movie at your place?"

Harvey's shoulders slumped even lower at the suggestion. "I don't know, Mike. I'm wiped out. I have a couple more hours of work I need to finish, and then I intend to go home and crash."

Mike refrained from pointing out that Harvey crashing was precisely what he hoped to avert. "No arguments, mister," he said in a stern voice. "Work your two hours. I'll be at your place at seven thirty sharp, with dinner."

"Mike...."

Mike stood up and leaned over Harvey's desk. "Didn't I say no arguments? We are doing this. If you zonk out on the couch I won't take it personally. One way or the other, I'm going to see that you come in tomorrow morning relaxed and able to handle whatever life throws at you." But Harvey was not going to zonk out on his couch. Mike would see to that.

Harvey opened his mouth, probably to object, but Mike raised one eyebrow and pointed a finger at him until he closed his mouth. "Fine. I'll agree, if only to get you out of my office."

Despite Harvey's frown, Mike could clearly see that he was struggling not to smile. He took that as a win, and also as his cue to leave.

 

On the cab ride to Harvey's place, Mike pulled out his phone and let his finger hover over the screen, once more considering the wisdom of his planned course of action. Finally, he gave a mental shrug and tapped out a text to Harvey: _Take a shower and put on comfortable clothes._

Seconds later, he received a reply: _When did you get so bossy?_

But when Mike knocked on Harvey's door twenty minutes later, it opened to reveal Harvey in pajama pants and a t-shirt, towel drying his hair. This first sight of Harvey following his orders was so satisfying that Mike had to suppress a shiver. _Good boy,_ he thought, following Harvey into the apartment.

"What did you bring?" asked Harvey, indicating the two bags of food Mike carried.

"Enchiladas and green salad. They'll keep, though." He set the bags on the kitchen counter, and indicated one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "Sit. We need to talk."

"Can't we talk and eat at the same time?"

"You're that hungry?" Mike eyed Harvey carefully. He seemed recovered from the earlier episode, but still couldn't quite meet Mike's eyes.

Harvey shook his head, lips pressed tightly together. "No. To be honest, I'm not sure I could keep anything down tonight." He finally took a seat, leaning forward on his elbows.

Mike sat next to him, turning his stool so he faced Harvey's profile. He would get Harvey to eat, just not yet. "All this shit with Donna and Louis has really got you rattled, huh?"

"I don't know. Yeah. I suppose it has." He shrugged. "I really don't want to talk about that."

"Fair enough. We don't have to discuss it. You have your therapist for that, anyway." He hesitated, studying the side of Harvey's face, trying to measure how tightly wound he actually was. Carefully, he laid his hand on Harvey's shoulder, feeling his muscles immediately tense up. Undeterred, he moved his fingers, subtly massaging.

Harvey eyed him sideways, but didn't object to the touch, so Mike dug his fingers in harder and deeper. A few minutes passed in silence, and then he stood up, moving behind Harvey and using both hands now to massage his shoulders and neck and back. He heard Harvey give a hum of approval, and noted that his eyes had fluttered closed.

"That's it," Mike murmured, "just relax." He dragged the heels of his hands down to the middle of Harvey's shoulder blades and stroked in circles, going deep, trying to ease away the tension Harvey held there.

He was rewarded with a low moan from Harvey. "Shit, Mike. That's...."

"Lean your head forward."

Resting his full upper body weight on his forearms, Harvey did as Mike had asked, giving himself over to Mike's touch. Mike worked slowly, taking his time, moving steadily, inexorably down Harvey's back. When he reached his waist, he slipped his hands underneath the t-shirt to touch warm, satiny skin. Now his firm touch lightened, became slower and more sensual as he pressed himself closer to Harvey's back, and stroked up and down, and around his ribcage, letting his fingertips edge down into the front of Harvey's pants, up again, down, and up, each time sneaking his fingers lower still.

Harvey allowed it for two or three minutes, and even let out another appreciative moan. When Mike pressed flush against him and let Harvey feel his growing erection, Harvey's hand came up like a whiplash and grabbed Mike's wrist. Mike froze with one hand on Harvey's ribcage, and one hand down his pants.

"Mike?" asked Harvey, not sounding angry, just curious and perplexed. He lifted his head and twisted to look at Mike. "I'm guessing that wasn't your phone I just felt."

Mike shook his head slowly, expression serious. He withdrew his hands. "You know what it was."

"I don't...I don't think...."

"Then don't, Harvey. I don't want you to think. You've had to do too much of that lately, and it's clearly tearing you apart." He paused, searching Harvey's dark eyes for a clue to his reaction. "Trust me, please? It's okay. You need this. I only want to help. Let me do this for you."

Harvey slowly swiveled all the way around to face Mike. "Do...what, exactly?"

Mike knew he was on shaky ethical ground here -- not that this was anything new where he and Harvey were concerned. He was also on shaky ground regarding their friendship and working relationship. So it was with more than a little trepidation that he said, "I want to help you relax and get outside your head." He crossed his arms to keep himself from reaching for Harvey again. "I'd like you to put yourself in my hands for the next hour or so. You won't have to think, or make any decisions, or plan ahead, or any of that bullshit."

Harvey's only reaction was the thoughtful frown on his face.

Mike sucked in a breath and tried again. "Here's the thing. All day long, you're in control, in charge, on top. If you'll let me, I can promise you something different, something you don't normally allow. All you have to do is say the word, right now, and for the rest of tonight I call the shots, and you obey."

At the last word, Harvey's eyebrows lifted. "Obey," he repeated. Mike was pretty sure he read interest and a desperate sort of hope in Harvey's expression. Harvey gave a short, uneasy sounding laugh. "Isn't that your role?"

Mike hid his smile. _If you only knew...._ "Come on. Aren't you at least a little intrigued by the idea?"

"Maybe." He pressed his lips together, thinking it over. "What about tomorrow?"

"What about it? This wouldn't change anything at work."

"Wouldn't it?"

Mike took half a step, closing the distance between them, and set his hand on Harvey's shoulder, nearly shouting in triumph when Harvey not only allowed it, but seemed to lean into the touch. "Let's be honest with one another. Hasn't our working relationship changed already in the past few years?"

Harvey's gaze went unfocused. "Yeah. Ever since you came back from Sidwell. And then Rachel left you, and you started to take any case offered, and now some days I only catch glimpses of you across the lobby, or in a conference room with a client."

Actually, it was Mike who had asked Rachel to leave. They'd never gotten things put back together after Logan Sanders. There had been other problems as well. Working with Robert Zane the past few weeks had been a special sort of torture. Mike didn't want to think about that, though. Certainly he didn't want to discuss it with Harvey. "I'm sorry that I distanced myself from you. It wasn't intentional, but I should have made the time to touch base more often. I'm here for you now."

Scowling, Harvey shook off his hand and stood up, walking restlessly into the living room. "I don't need a babysitter, Mike."

Mike followed him, watching him pace up and down the room. "That's not what I'm offering. Not even close."

"Then maybe you need to be more specific."

Specifics? Mike had entertained detailed fantasies about an opportunity like this, but now he had to think rapidly, and put together a plan that wouldn't spook Harvey. Best to keep it simple this first time, he judged. "All right. You want specifics? How does this sound? I tie you naked to the bed, blindfold you, suck your dick, and then fuck you into the mattress until you can't remember your own name, much less what it was that nearly brought you to your knees today."

Harvey had stopped moving. He seemed to have ceased breathing as he stared back at Mike. Tense seconds ticked back, and then, "I want that," Harvey choked out, sounding surprised.

"Okay, then," said Mike. "Okay." He mentally pumped a triumphant fist in the air. He'd been looking forward to this for a long, long time.

******

It felt surreal to Harvey, to have Mike here in his bedroom, leaning back against the closed door and watching, with his arms crossed, as Harvey removed his clothes, piece by careful piece. Surreal, but not wrong.

He’d always felt the subtle _zing_ of something between them, humming and buzzing far beneath their surface interactions. Hitting on his associate hadn’t been an ethical line he was willing to cross. That was not to say that he hadn’t considered it from time to time. But then Mike had fallen head over heels for the paralegal – associate now – and Harvey had locked those feelings away, nice and tight. He was good at that.

All those times, at the beginning, when he’d imagined how it would go between them, it hadn’t looked anything like this. It had been Harvey demanding, and Mike responding, awkward and eager. Mike had changed, though. He’d matured and gained confidence. He’d gone out on his own and proved he could play hard with the big dogs. He may have failed ultimately with Sidwell, but he’d never lost sight of the good he wanted to do in the world. Every time an obstacle presented itself, he’d found a way through it, or around it, just as Harvey had taught him.

When Rachel left, Mike had changed again. His open expression had grown cynical, and some of the light had disappeared from those extraordinary blue eyes. That had been hard to watch, but it seemed there had been nothing to do but let Mike work through it on his own. Well, almost nothing. Harvey had found a new associate and suggested to Rachel that she concentrate on her studies. She’d taken his advice, and was now on extended unpaid leave while she finished up at Columbia.

Down to his boxer briefs, Harvey caught the waistband with his fingertips, preparing to drag them off.

“Wait,” said Mike, the first word he’d spoken since he’d taken up his post at the door. “Come here.”

Harvey obediently took the few steps that brought him in front of Mike. Mike’s hand came down to cup Harvey’s cock through his briefs. He was already half-hard, and the feel of Mike’s large, strong hand grasping him, his fingers clenching and unclenching, soon had Harvey fully erect and breathing hard. Still holding him in a firm grip, Mike led him back to the bed.

“Lie down on your back, with your butt right at the edge of the mattress.”

Harvey’s eyes drifted shut briefly as an unfamiliar feeling washed through him. He’d never once let someone take the lead in the bedroom before. He’d loved the surge of power and control that came with orchestrating an amazing session of hot, sweaty sex. But this…this felt right. He trusted Mike like few other people in his life. If anyone had to witness the humiliating episode of his panic attack, he was glad it had been Mike. Somehow, he had not felt the shame and fear that losing his shit in front of Jessica – or worse, Louis, or Jack Soloff – would have brought. With Mike, he didn't need to be afraid to let go.

That was the key. He trusted Mike. Mike would never use this against him, this acquiescence, this momentary weakness, this…submission. So he positioned himself on the bed, and felt more than saw when Mike, still fully clothed right down to his carefully knotted tie, kicked Harvey’s feet further apart, knelt between Harvey’s legs, tugged his boxer briefs down and off, and drew the head of his cock inside his perfect little mouth.

Harvey let out a moan that seemed to come from a deeply hidden well of longing he hadn’t known existed. “Yes,” he whispered. “Please….” He made his hands into fists at his sides, to keep from grasping Mike’s head in order to regain control. He concentrated on the feel of Mike’s mouth and tongue and throat, the heat and the damp friction, the way he sought out and found all of Harvey’s most sensitive spots.

A few of the women in his life had given decent enough head. Scottie had skills. Evan Smith had surprised him and deep-throated him so unexpectedly and thoroughly in the back of her town car that he’d feared she’d turn him inside out. But their efforts always seemed to be given with conditions, or as a reward, a bit grudging perhaps, with the expectation that he would return the favor tenfold and rock their worlds down to the foundations. In general, he was happy enough to oblige, and rarely failed to satisfy. Sometimes, though, it was all so exhausting.

Now, he was only expected to lay back and let Mike decide what he needed. Apparently, what Mike had decided was that he needed to lose his mind from slow, sweet torture. “God, Mike,” he gasped, wriggling a little against the duvet. “Ah. Shitttt. That’s….” _Amazing. Incredible. Spectacular._

Then Mike rubbed a finger against his hole, breached it with his dry fingertip, and fucked in and out in short, shallow stabs that burned just the right amount. Harvey could feel his orgasm approaching, ready to slam through him. He arched his back, squeezed his eyes shut and let his mouth fall open.

Mike pulled off. Pulled out.

Harvey’s eyes flew open. “What?” His lungs were working like a set of bellows.

Mike smiled at him, lips and chin wet with spit. “Not yet, Harvey. You’re not going to come until I’m deep inside you, splitting you in two.” He waited a beat. “Tell me you understand.”

“Yeah,” he panted. “Yes. I understand. Just do it. Please.”

“Patience. I will. I want this to last, though.” He rose to his feet. “Move further up the bed, please. Put that pillow behind your back and keep your eyes on me while I undress.”

“I never took you for such a little tease,” said Harvey, even as he did exactly as Mike had instructed.

Mike’s eyes glinted with humor and something else which might have been a dark sort of mischief. The sight did things to Harvey’s insides which in turn went directly to his cock. He wrapped a hand around himself and began a leisurely stroking.

Mike had his jacket and tie off, and froze with hands on the buttons of his shirt. “One day,” he murmured, “I’ll have you jack off just for my viewing pleasure. Right now, I want your hands at your sides. And I’d advise you to keep any more smart remarks to yourself. I’m in the driver’s seat tonight, and if you want to see this through to the end, you’re going to play by my rules. Is that clear?”

Harvey had already slapped his hands down next to him. His eyes may have gone wider at Mike’s speech. “Yes, sir,” he said, meaning it as a joke. Mostly. Mostly meaning it as a joke. By the look in Mike’s eyes, the sudden dilation of his pupils, he had taken it an entirely different way. Harvey did not correct him.

By now, he was so hard, he ached with it. Seeing Mike reveal himself, one item of clothing at a time, became a special, beautiful sort of torture. He had seen less of Mike, he mused, than Louis had – Louis who had taken Mike mudding, and dragged him to his gym. That was an enormous, goddamned shame, he realized, watching the unveiling of pale, toned flesh, lightly furred in all the right place, which made his fingers itch with the need to touch and explore.

When Mike stepped out of his briefs, Harvey couldn’t stop another deep, heartfelt groan. Mike had a gorgeous cock, thick and long and cut, hard and leaking now, flushed a purplish-red, with a sweet, subtle curve toward his flat belly. Harvey licked his lips. At Mike’s low laugh, Harvey’s gaze traveled up to his face to find a smug half-smile there. Mike looked damn good, and he knew it. Harvey had been correct earlier. Mike was a tease.

“See something you like?” asked the tease, in his clear, attractive tenor.

“I think I just got my appetite back.”

A soft laugh. “That’s good, but I have other plans for you tonight.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket, which he’d draped over a chair, and pulled out two narrow ties, producing them with a flourish which would have made a magician proud.

“My god,” said Harvey, “I haven’t seen those abominations for a year or more. I was sure you’d gotten rid of them.”

“Recycle, reuse and reduce, Harvey. Haven’t I taught you anything? I’ve kept these because they are remarkably effective for one thing.”

Mike sat on the edge of the mattress near Harvey’s head and lifted one of his unresisting arms, holding it by the wrist. As Harvey watched, he tied his wrist to the headboard, nimble fingers moving with practiced ease. Then he leaned across Harvey and tied his other wrist up. Harvey jerked his arms, testing the bonds, and found them to be strong and firm. The feeling of being helpless quickened his breath and sent a rush of warmth through his body.

“You’re good at that,” he said. “Had a lot of practice?”

“As a matter of fact,” said Mike, standing and moving back to his jacket, “I have.” He glanced over at Harvey. “Does that surprise you?”

_Did it?_ He wasn’t sure, and chose not to answer.

Mike returned to sit next to him, carrying a small, zippered pouch. He smiled. “Now that I’ve got you where I want you, I need to ask a few questions.”

 

Harvey nearly groaned again, this time from frustration. “Mike….” He could hear the hint of a whine in his voice, and didn’t care.

“Harvey, you promised to behave.”

Yeah, he supposed he had. He inclined his head once, indicating that Mike should fire away.

“First of all, I don’t want to assume, so I’ll ask you straight out: have you been anally penetrated before?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “And to save you asking, it was by a man, I enjoyed it thoroughly, and it was a good five years ago.”

“I see. Thank you. How do you feel about toys?”

Harvey swallowed, eyes shifting to the pouch Mike held, and back to his face. “Toys?”

Mike unzipped the pouch and began pulling out a series of items. “Nipple clamps.” He lay them in his palm and showed them to Harvey. “Dildo.” It wasn’t terribly large. Nowhere near as large as Mike himself. “That’s probably plenty for now. Thoughts?”

Harvey’s mouth had gone dry, and he swallowed a few times before he could find his voice. “Mike. I’m speechless. I never would have guessed that inside of that milquetoast exterior there lived such a dirty little freak.”

He’d meant it as a joke, as gentle teasing, as witty repartee. Mike’s eyes instantly shuttered, though, and his hand snapped closed around the clamps.

“This was a mistake,” he said, voice tight. He stood up, as if ready to take flight, just like that, in all of his glorious nudity. Leaving Harvey tied to the bed.

“It’s not,” Harvey practically yelled, surprising them both. “It’s not a mistake, and I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”

Mike took a step toward the door and stopped. “It sure of sounded like it.” His shoulders slumped. “Maybe it’s true, because that’s pretty much what Rachel said.”

Harvey felt like a world class jerk now. “Mike, I’m sorry. Really.” He hesitated. “Is that why she left you?”

“She didn’t leave me,” Mike hissed, practically baring his teeth. “She refused to play the way I wanted to, but she stuck around just long enough to rip my fucking heart out with Logan.” He pressed his lips together, but stayed where he was, staring moodily at Harvey where he lay tied to the bed. “Would you like me to untie you?” He sounded resigned. Defeated.

“I would not.” He kept his voice level, his expression serious. “I’m not Rachel.” Mike flinched, but Harvey kept talking. “I want whatever you’re offering.” He paused, tested the words in his mind, and then said them aloud. “I want to play.”

******

In the end, Harvey agreed to everything Mike wanted to do to him. He adjusted the blindfold over Harvey’s eyes and ran a hand down his chest, satisfying his years-long need to touch him. Harvey was solid and nicely muscled, just as Mike had imagined he would be. His hours in the gym and in the ring had kept his body in magnificent shape. Mike pinched at his nipples, getting them hard. Then he sucked on first one and then the other, using his teeth to scrape and tug before lifting up to blow on the dampened area.

He’d brought basic tweezer clamps, and attached them one at a time, watching Harvey’s reactions closely. With the first one, he grimaced, face tightening, but took it like a champ, breathing carefully before relaxing with a long sigh. With the second one, a quick grunt escaped him, and then he seemed to just let go, sighing and moaning and moving restlessly on the bed. He was obviously into it, which relieved Mike. Part of him had feared that Harvey was only going through with this to prove a point.

Mike let him get used to the clamps, and took his own time looking his fill. Goddamn, but Harvey was a beautiful man, made even more beautiful tied up and under Mike's control. He was tempted to snap a few pictures of him like this, but settled for taking copious mental pictures instead.

He stroked Harvey’s head, moving his fingers between the strands of his hair to loosen it up. “You took those so well,” he murmured, wetting a thumb and rub it over one of the imprisoned nubs. Harvey arched up into his touch, legs falling further apart on the bed, inviting Mike. He was only too happy to take that invitation. He reached for the dildo, then changed his mind and set it back on the bed. Five years without being penetrated meant Harvey needed a little extra careful preparation.

With that in mind, Mike grabbed the tube of lube he’d brought. He uncapped it, laid a hand on Harvey’s thigh, and drizzled lube over his entrance, and over his own fingers. He spent a few minutes just rubbing across Harvey’s hole, again and again. Then, carefully, he worked one finger inside, almost holding his breath at the sensation of Harvey’s hot channel engulfing him. He was definitely tight. Mike moved his finger around, pumped it in and out several times. Harvey was biting his lip, making gasping grunts.

“How does that feel?”

“It’s good. Feels good. Can we move this along?”

Mike smiled to himself, knowing Harvey couldn’t see him. “Pushy bottoms don’t get what they want, so I suggest you let me set the pace.”

Harvey seemed stunned into momentary silence. Then, “Yes, sir,” he said, and Mike could feel Harvey's body relax.

The response – both verbal and physical – filled Mike with elation, but he kept his movements slow and measured. After a few minutes, he removed his finger, added more lube, and went back to work on Harvey with two fingers now. He pushed and probed and stretched. He located Harvey’s gland and brushed against it several times, enjoying the instant reaction his touch caused. Harvey gasped and arched up, cursing under his breath.

Mike got three fingers inside of him, and gave it to him good and hard for several minutes, nudging Harvey’s prostate every five strokes or so. He loved watching Harvey’s responses, seeing his mouth fall open, his hands clench and unclench, his neck tip back as the sensations took control of him. Mike could have made him come just like this, he knew, and it would have been beautiful to watch. He didn’t know for sure, though, that he would have another opportunity like this. Harvey might wake up tomorrow with regrets. Anything might happen. Mike wasn’t going to pass up what might be his one chance to fuck Harvey Specter’s gorgeous ass.

He pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the bed covers before picking up the dildo and slathering it with lube. “This might feel a little cold and weird,” he warned Harvey. He got his shoulder under one of Harvey’s legs, indulged himself with a quick kiss to his inner thigh, and prodded his entrance with the head of the dildo.

Harvey sighed and hummed as the Mike pushed the object inside of him. He winced, sucking his breath in quickly, and Mike stopped. “Too much?”

“Give me a second.” Harvey breathed slowly in and out a couple of times, and then nodded. “Keep going. I’m good.”

Mike forced the dildo the rest of the way into Harvey, staring avidly at the spot where it disappeared into him. He let it sit for a time, while he stroked Harvey’s thighs and belly, loving that he finally had permission to do this. He waited, watching Harvey’s facial expressions, listening to his breathing accelerate.

Finally, “ _Please…,_ ” Harvey moaned, head tossing back and forth.

“Please, what?”

“Anything. Move it. Take it out. Fuck me. Just…I can’t….” He gasped when Mike began rapidly pumping the dildo in and out of him. “Ah, god. Yesss….”

If Harvey had seemed beautiful before, now, with his pleasure building, and his defenses down, he was breathtaking. Mike briefly regretted not being able to see his eyes, but had wanted Harvey focused solely on physical sensation this first time.

_This first time_. Mike kept thinking that, as if there was a real chance that they might do this again. He gave his head a violent shake to banish the thought. He needed to stay present, not dwell on some possible or impossible future. Harvey had begun to thrash, pulling at his bonds and cursing nonstop. Mike judged him to be right on the edge. He stopped all movement, letting the dildo sit inside of Harvey once more.

“Shit,” Harvey gasped. “Goddamn it, Mike. I’m so close.”

Mike rubbed soft circles on his lower belly. “I know. I know you are, but it’s not time. Not quite yet.”

Harvey actually whimpered then, and Mike took pity on him.

“All right. I was planning to play with you a little longer, but I can see your need, so I'm going to give you what you want.”

Harvey grew still beneath him.

“I am going to fuck you so hard,” Mike whispered, and watched the shiver that ran through the other man. He took his time, opening the condom wrapper, rolling the latex down his hard, aching dick, adjusting it just so. He lowered the leg he’d been supporting with his shoulder, and crawled up Harvey’s body, so that he was almost sitting on his chest. He held his own cock in one hand and rubbed it across Harvey’s face before setting the tip to his mouth. “Get it nice and wet,” he ordered.

Harvey’s mouth opened wide and his head lifted up as he swallowed Mike’s cock, tongue running around and around it with so much enthusiasm that Mike ground his teeth together, biting down on his own tongue to regain control of himself. “That’s good,” he managed to get out. “Jesus, Harvey, you suck like a pro.” He hastily pulled back, out of Harvey’s mouth, and moved back down his body, repositioning himself between his spread legs.

Mike took a moment to compose himself. When he felt back in control, he lifted Harvey’s long legs one at a time and draped them over his thighs, and then lined himself up with his hole. “Are you ready for me?"

"Yeah," Harvey breathed.

Mike pushed forward, felt resistance, and pushed harder until the head of his cock breached the stubborn ring of muscle. He paused to let Harvey get used to him, gritting his teeth against the exquisite grip of Harvey around him. A glance at Harvey's face showed his lips clamped together, and his fingernails digging into his palms. "Relax," he soothed. "You know what to do. Let me in." No response. "Harvey," he ordered, "nod if you heard me."

It took several seconds, but Harvey gave a jerky nod. "Pretty sure the last guy," Harvey gasped, "wasn't so big." Then he smiled, wide and genuine. "You n-never fail to surprise." The smile drained away, leaving only desperate need. "Do it. Please."

Mike drove home with an almost savage thrust. Harvey's legs tightened around this waist and he gave a strangled yell, yanking down against his bonds. Fully inside now, Mike paused, waiting for Harvey to adjust. For long moments, he couldn't stop staring down at the place where he disappeared inside of Harvey. He'd been inside of a lot of men, but nothing compared to the feelings that swirled through him at this joining.

After seeing Harvey's nod, and hearing his murmured urgings, Mike began to move, slowly at first. He wanted this to last, but that didn't seem likely. Bracing one hand against the headboard, he drove in, again and again. His other hand played with the nipple clamps, tugging and flicking, savoring every hot, eager, tormented sound that Harvey made. He bucked up against Mike, head pushed back deep into the pillow behind him.

"That's it," Mike whispered breathlessly. "Take it for me." He took a pause from the nipple play to give Harvey's cock a few strokes, never slowing his own pace.

" _Please_ ," groaned Harvey.

"What do you want?" Mike coaxed. "Talk to me."

"This," Harvey breathed, the barest of sounds. "This. Forever."

Mike's smooth movements faltered for a moment. He was grateful now for the blindfold, as he was sure the look on his face at that moment would have betrayed him. He began pumping again, savoring the burn in his thighs and glutes, both hands on the headboard now. "Yeah," he said, finally finding the voice to respond. "That would be good." He pistoned away mindlessly for several minutes, caught up in sensation and a burgeoning joy which he took care to conceal, even though Harvey couldn't see his face.

Fucking Harvey forever would have been wonderful. Eventually, though, Mike found himself too close to the edge, and could see the effort with which Harvey was holding himself back. Mike hadn't even had to tell him he had to wait, not to come yet, he had simply taken it as a given. _Fuck. So good for me._ Mike slowed, and then stopped moving, sitting back on his heels and running his hands over Harvey's tense thighs.

"Sshh," he soothed at Harvey's whimper. "You're going to come for me now. You have my permission. Give it all up for me." He palmed Harvey's cock and stroked rapidly, waiting until he could see that Harvey was _right there._ As he gave a shout and started to come, Mike yanked off the nipple clamps. Harvey's shout turned to a howl, and he jerked violently. His channel squeezed Mike, who slammed into him another half dozen times, and came ferociously hard while Harvey was still trembling with aftershocks.

As he knelt up over Harvey, still joined to him, Mike drank in the sight before him. Harvey had gone loose and lax, every bit of tension drained out of him with the force of his climax. His hands curled slackly where he still hung from the headboard, and his damp chest heaved up and down as he fought to catch his breath. This reminded Mike of earlier that day, when Harvey's lungs had fought for air for an entirely different reason. That had scared the shit out of him. This, though. This was beauty. This was art.

Mike had brought Harvey to this, had been able to give him this gift of surcease and forgetting. The knowledge of what he'd accomplished filled him with a joy so sharp it was nearly painful. He breathed through it, ordering himself to get it together. He needed to see to Harvey.

He pulled out gently, mindful of how roughly he'd ridden Harvey. After he disposed of the condom, he untied his wrists, and removed the blindfold. Harvey blinked slowly up at him, gaze sleepy and warm.

"Doing okay?" asked Mike as he carefully cleaned Harvey's belly and chest.

"Yeah." His voice was raw and hoarse. He said nothing else for a time, simply regarded Mike, watching as he gathered up the nipple clamps, and dildo, and dropped them into the pouch, which went back into his jacket pocket, along with the skinny ties.

Mike sat on the edge of the bed and held Harvey's gaze before dropping his own to the other man's mouth. He longed to lean in and kiss him, just once, to see what it would feel like, but he wasn't sure how that would be greeted. For a moment, he was at a loss for what to say or how to behave, which was not the norm for him. This was Harvey Specter, though, who he had just put through his paces and fucked into the mattress, not some sub he'd snagged for a few hours at the club.

Mike licked his lips, staving off sudden, unfamiliar nerves. He remembered the food he'd left in the kitchen. "Think you could eat something now?"

Harvey stretched, arching his back, working his joints and muscles like a cat, a sleepy panther that Mike had only tamed for the moment. A sudden vision flashed through his mind of Harvey with a collar and leash, crawling after him.... A jolt of electric longing shot up his spine. He stood abruptly in an attempt to hide the shiver that had gone through him. He held a hand out for Harvey. "Come on. You can have the first shower."

Harvey grasped his hand, and let Mike pull him to his feet. "Have you seen my shower?" asked Harvey. "There's plenty of room for two."

 

******

 

Harvey did his best not to stare at Mike's wet, dripping body as they both soaped up in his enormous shower. He couldn't help but replay what had just happened, remembering the confidence and easy power Mike had displayed, and the raw strength hiding inside the lean body. Mike had completely and utterly owned him just now, and Harvey had loved every second of it.

He got so caught up in his thoughts that he forgot to move his hands.

"Here," came Mike's amused voice, "let me." He gently took the soap from Harvey's hand and moved behind him. "Put your hands on the wall."

Harvey obeyed him without even thinking, leaning forward and letting Mike run soapy hands all over him, over his tender nipples, down his chest and belly, to his groin and exhausted cock, and around to his ass, easing between his cheeks to brush past his sore hole. Harvey rested his forehead on his arm and accepted Mike's touch. It felt good, both intimate and somehow familiar. He wanted to say something, to acknowledge what they'd just done, and how extraordinary it had all felt. He tested a few words and sentences in his mind and found that he was too relaxed for coherence, settling for a deep, satisfied hum as Mike lifted the detachable nozzle and rinsed him everywhere, letting hot water pulsate on his back to relax him even further.

Mike's attentions didn't cease when they stepped from the shower. He grabbed one of the fluffy towels and insisted on drying Harvey off in a manner both thorough and distracting. Seemingly satisfied, he gave Harvey a light swat on his bottom. "Go get dressed, and then heat up the enchiladas for us. I'll be right behind you."

Normally, Harvey might have balked at being issued orders, but this felt right and natural. He didn't feel the need to dissect his reaction at that moment. He'd save that for later, when he had ample time to reflect. Right now, he felt as if Mike had earned the right to order him around a little.

By the time Mike had dried off and dressed, Harvey had two plates prepared for them at the breakfast bar.

"You want something to drink?" Harvey offered. "Beer? Wine? Scotch?"

"Beer sounds great." He sat down and watched while Harvey went to the refrigerator to get two beers. He set an open one in front of Mike. "Thanks, Harvey."

Both of them, it turned out, were ravenously hungry, and they tucked into their meal with silent, dedicated fervor. Once the worst of his pangs were satisfied, Harvey began to grow curious about some of the hints that Mike had dropped earlier about his sexual experiences. He was practiced at tying people up. He owned nipple clamps. He'd apparently argued with Rachel about participating in this type of... _play_ , he'd called it. Harvey wondered just how far Mike liked to take his play. He had to admit, his interest was piqued more than a little.

Results spoke for themselves. He hadn't felt so relaxed in weeks. Even the pills Dr. Agard had given him hadn't done as much for him. He felt lighter. Happier. He would put it down to sex endorphins, but this was different. It had to have something to do with giving up control, he decided. He wanted to know more about what Mike was into, and what he might expect from Harvey if they continued on with this....whatever this was.

He took a long swallow of beer, eyeing Mike discreetly. The other man appeared completely at ease, quietly and precisely consuming his meal. He caught Harvey looking at him, and raised one eyebrow. "You have questions," stated Mike, voice dry.

"I do. But let me get this out of the way first, and say that was... _wow_."

Mike gave a modest, one-shouldered shrug. "I'm just relieved I guessed right about you."

"Guessed...?" Harvey polished off his beer and set it on the counter with a soft click. "Guessed that I swing that way sometimes? Or guessed that I would...that you could...." Suddenly, he didn't seem to possess an adequate vocabulary to express himself.

"I guessed," said Mike, laying a hand on Harvey's arm, "that you needed to get out of your head, and that I could help you achieve that the best way I knew how." He waited a couple of beats. "Was I wrong?"

"No." Harvey couldn't seem to meet his gaze now, as he remembered how he had submitted, and how Mike had....A lightbulb seemed to go on in his head. "Mike, exactly what are you into? What we just did...was that the extent of it, or is there more?"

Mike's fingers circled Harvey's wrist, thumb caressing his pulse point. "Harvey. Look at me. Yes, there is more." His chin lifted slightly, as if daring Harvey to mock him, perhaps recalling Harvey's cutting comments from earlier. "I'm a Dom. On the weekends -- when I'm not stuck at work -- I spend much of my time at a private club I belong to, where I have my pick of willing submissives. What we do...it depends on the sub, but I very much enjoy beating a soft, round bottom with a leather strap, or edging them and making them squirm until they lose their minds, or having them follow me around on their hands and knees, gagged and drooling, or...any number of things."

Harvey tried not to react to what Mike was saying, but it wasn't easy. He was imagining himself in all of the scenarios, and becoming aroused all over again, despite the screaming orgasm he'd had less than an hour earlier. "And you figured I might want all of that?" He tried to sound scornful, he really did, but even he could hear the breathless quality of the question.

"I hoped." Mike's gaze was unflinching. "I've hoped for quite some time that we might get here someday."

Harvey's stomach dropped a little. "And today you saw me as weak? And you figured here was your chance?"

Mike was shaking his head in denial before Harvey stopped speaking. "No. Categorically no. First of all, submitting does not equate to being weak, so just get that out of your head right now. More importantly, what I saw today was someone in distress. No, scratch that. I saw _my friend,_ in distress. My mentor. My primary purpose for coming here tonight was to help you find a way through that."

Harvey managed a half-smile. "Primary purpose?"

"Yes. I'll admit I was also dying to get my hands on you." Mike got up and went to the refrigerator to get them each another beer. He handed one to Harvey. "Tell me the truth. You've wanted this from the start." He held out his hands as Harvey opened his mouth to object. "Not precisely _this_ , maybe. But I've seen the looks you've given me every so often." He smiled slowly. "Don't try to tell me you didn't notice that I was giving you the same looks."

"Hm. I'll grant you that. But then you went and fell for Rachel."

Mike frowned, and Harvey instantly regretted mentioning her again. This was obviously still a touchy subject for Mike.

"Yeah," said Mike, sounding wistful. "Rachel. A dream. A fantasy that couldn't live up to itself in the light of day."

"We don't have to talk about this."

"You asked. This is twice now that you've brought her up. So here's the truth as I know it. I made the mistake of convincing myself that I was worthy of a woman like her. I made that same mistake years ago with a girl name Claire, and man, I paid for it. I didn't learn a damn thing from that first humiliation."

Mike sipped at his beer, a pensive look on his face. "You don't have to worry though. I possess zero illusions about myself these days. I'm a fraud and a poser, full stop. A loser kid from Brooklyn who wants people to think he's worth more than he is. Maybe that's why I was drawn to the BDSM life. It doesn't matter where I'm from, or how many degrees I have -- or don't have -- when I've got a happy little sub tied up and at my mercy. All that matter is I'm 'Sir,' and they are my boy."

Mike's fingers tightened suddenly around Harvey's wrist. "Would you like to be my boy, Harvey?"

The question had an unexpected effect on Harvey, slicing through him like a heated knife. Carefully, he freed his arm from Mike's grasp and forced himself to focus on what Mike had confessed before he'd posed the question. "Mike, listen carefully. You may technically be a fraud, but you're not a loser, or a poser. You have an amazing mind, and a grasp of the subtle details of the law like no one I've ever met. You shape it and work it like a master sculptor. Like a goddamned magician. It's been a joy and an honor to watch you develop over these past years, and come into your own."

Mike had dropped his gaze to the countertop, and his face had gone still and impassive.

Harvey touched a fingertip to the back of Mike's hand. "Hey. I don't think I ever told you this, but I'm sorry about Rachel. I know you were crazy about her."

Mike shrugged, a spasm of pain crossing his features and disappearing just as fast. "It never would have worked out, even without Logan Sanders. We were too different."

They sat quietly together for a time, each lost in their own thoughts. Harvey contemplated thanking Mike again and sending him on his way. They'd touched something tonight, though. Together they'd traveled through a strange landscape, and Harvey felt a strong pull to journey further. He couldn't say for sure whether he could comfortably exist in that BDSM world Mike had briefly described, but he'd definitely like to buy a plane ticket and reconnoiter -- with Mike as his guide, of course.

Mike moved restlessly, as if preparing to get up and leave. Harvey grabbed his hand, holding him in place. He could feel Mike grow perfectly still.

"Wait," said Harvey. "I didn't get a chance to answer your question." _I want that. I want to play._ The hope he saw light in Mike's eyes was worth any doubts he might have. "The answer is yes, Mike. I'd like to try this. I'd like to be your boy."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kind comments and kudos on the previous chapter!

Harvey was not nervous. He didn’t get nervous.

_Except for the occasional panic attack_.

Okay, maybe he did get nervous. Maybe he was in denial. He’d committed to this, though, and Mike was waiting for him on the other side of the door. Taking a long, slow breath to compose himself, he knocked. Seconds later, Mike opened the apartment door, looking … just like himself. Which was a relief – if he’d had anything to be relieved about. If he had actually been nervous, which – wait. Hadn’t he just gone through all this?

“Harvey.”

Fingers snapped in front of his face, and he realized he’d been standing frozen on the threshold of Mike’s apartment, pulse and breath rates accelerating, while he stared blankly at the floor. He gave Mike a tight smile and strolled through the door, schooling his posture to appear at ease.

“Take off your jacket,” said Mike, voice both gentle and firm. “And your tie.” Mike, he noticed, was already casually dressed in jeans, t-shirt and bare feet. He had beautiful feet, Harvey remembered. Pale and high-arched, with long, slender toes.

Harvey fumbled to do as he’d been asked – as he’d been _ordered_ – finding his fingers annoyingly clumsy all of a sudden. “So, we’re starting now?” His eyes darted to Mike’s face, and then down to the floor, not sure what was expected of him.

“Unclench, Harvey. Right now, we’re just talking. Have a seat.”

Harvey settled onto Mike’s couch, watching while the younger man hung up his tie and jacket, taking a moment to smooth out the wrinkles. That small bit of consideration warmed him, and he began to feel more like himself. Mike took the chair across from him and regarded him seriously.

“Let’s talk about ground rules.”

“Sounds like a good place to start.”

Mike leaned forward, elbows on his spread knees. “Nothing changes at work. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Harvey crossed his legs and leaned back, and had to suppress a wry grin at their all too telling body language.

“We’ve already agreed to meet here once a week on Wednesdays. More if you ask for it and we can both make the time.”

Harvey nodded.

“I’ve been thinking this over,” continued Mike, “and I’ve decided it would be a good idea to have some kind of signal, or symbol, to demarcate our roles, so we're clear about what we're doing.”

One of Harvey’s eyebrows lifted. “You mean to signal when I stop being my normal arrogant self and drop to my knees for you?”

“If that’s how you want to spin this, then yes. That is reasonably accurate.”

“So what’s the signal?”

Mike didn’t move for a few seconds, eyeing Harvey speculatively, as if wondering how he might react. “Don’t reject this outright.”

The sudden return of nerves caused a weak laugh to escape Harvey. “I’ve already agreed to be tied up and at your mercy. What else could you – _oh_.”

A leather collar dangled from Mike’s finger, black and unadorned, except for the large silver buckle. He held it out to Harvey, who hesitated for a moment before taking it from Mike and turning it over in his hands, letting his fingers rub and test the smooth leather.

“Take these too,” said Mike.

“Are those -- ?”

“Keys to my apartment. They were Rachel’s. Now I’d like you to keep them. If I’m delayed for any reason, you should feel free to let yourself in. When you arrive, whether I’m here or not, I’d like you to undress completely, shower if you need to, put on the collar, and wait for me outside the play room.”

“The … what now?”

Mike gave him a crooked half-smile. “Follow me.”

Clutching collar and keys, Harvey trailed behind Mike to a closed door, realizing with some surprise that he’d never ventured this far into Mike’s apartment before. Next to the closed door, he could see a bedroom with neatly made bed, and beyond that a bathroom with the door slightly ajar. Harvey inclined his head toward the closed door in front of him. “Is this – ah. Okay.”

Mike had opened the door, revealing what Harvey immediately recognized as a BDSM dungeon, or play room, as Mike had called it. Light-colored walls and recessed lighting put the pieces of equipment on stark display. Harvey couldn’t have named more than one or two of them – the sling, and the cross – but he could only assume that he would become intimately acquainted with each and every one of them if they continued with this arrangement for any length of time. His mouth went dry considering it. He also began to grow hard within his trousers.

Glancing sideways at Mike, he found the other man studying his reactions.

“Uh. Nice setup,” commented Harvey, as if he knew the least thing about it. Something occurred to him. “You had all this when Rachel was here?”

“Some of it. I've expanded my collection since she moved out.”

“And did she … did you and she… ?” He struggled and failed to frame a query which did not sound overly nosy.

“She tried. I’ll give her credit for that. It became clear right away that this is not her cup of tea.”

“So all this was just sitting and going to waste while she was here?”

“No. It wasn’t.”

Harvey hadn’t thought Mike could surprise him any further, but this brought his head around to gape at him. “So, you’re saying … “

“Yep. Rachel had her girls’ nights out. And I had my boys’ nights in. It worked for a while. We both believed she could handle it. In the end, though, jealousy made her impossible to live with. Not that I blame her.”

“Well, no shit.” Harvey grinned and shook his head, marveling at Mike’s gargantuan balls. “You got your fiancée to agree to let you cheat on her in your own home.”

By the tightness at the corners of Mike’s mouth, Harvey surmised that he had said too much. “There was never any sex involved with those men. And yes, I realize there was still an element of unfaithfulness, but she did agree to it.” Now he smiled, although it had an edge of malice to it. “I think it burned her a little to discover that her safe, adoring boyfriend was a bigger freak than she was.” He laughed, a harsh bitter sound.

“Did you try confining your activities to the club you mentioned?”

“I did. Our relationship had already unraveled too far by then.” Mike’s expression had gone closed off and dark.

Deciding they needed to get off the topic of Rachel – and berating himself for foolishly bringing her up in the first place – Harvey veered rapidly to a different topic. “So I get undressed, put on the collar, and wait for you in here?”

“Close. You get undressed, put on the collar, and wait for me outside the door. You’re never allowed inside the play room without me, not without my specific permission. You’re also never allowed inside with clothes on – again, unless I specifically grant you permission. Collar on means mouth closed. Speak when spoken to. Address me as ‘Sir’ at all times. Follow all orders immediately and without hesitation. And understand that in here, every inch of you belongs to me.” He waited, letting all he’d said sink in. “Any questions?”

“Nope,” said Harvey too quickly, and then he held up a hand. "Wait. I just thought of one. What happens if I don't follow the rules?"

A seraphic smile split Mike's face, bringing his front teeth into slight prominence in the way Harvey had always found so endearing. Nothing about this particular smile could be called cute or endearing, however. Mike's eyes looked … hungry. Hungry and just this side of dangerous. A shiver rippled up Harvey's spine, even before Mike answered, "Then I would have to punish you."

"Ah." Harvey found it hard to swallow as the implications sank in. "Understood. No more questions, I guess."

“Good. You can use my bedroom to get undressed.”

******

Mike sorted his mail and threw together a salad to go with the vegetable curry he’d brought home. He allowed Harvey some privacy, assuming that he was fighting nerves right about now. The first time, Mike knew from experience, was the most difficult. Making oneself vulnerable, placing trust in another’s hands, just the simple act of getting naked and kneeling for another man – he’d gone through it all in the course of his own training.

He'd had Harvey vulnerable underneath him before, but that had been a sneak attack, not this deliberate, cold-blooded sort of arrangement. Mike hoped it did not remain cold-blooded, and developed into more than simply an “arrangement.” Internally, he counseled patience. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Harvey off right at the start.

Even as all of these thoughts drifted through his head, he was scolding himself for second-guessing and over-thinking. He was a skilled and seasoned Dom, sought after and even fought over from time to time. So why … ?

But he knew why. This was _Harvey_ , the man he’d fantasized about for years, the unattainable goal who was never far from his thoughts. He’d imagined him often enough naked and on his knees, but had not once believed such a thing possible. Shutting his eyes, he attempted to compose himself, to bring himself into the right state of mind. He thought he’d been successful, but when he'd finished in the kitchen and returned to the hallway, and to the sight of Harvey, wearing his collar, kneeling for _him_ … Mike had to take another moment.

“Very nice, boy,” he murmured, stepping forward to run a hand through Harvey’s hair and touch the collar at his throat before moving past him into the play room. “Follow me, please.” Harvey started to rise. “Ah, ah. Hands and knees.” The hesitation was slight, but noticeable. Harvey dropped down, though, and crawled after Mike. Inside, Mike pointed at a spot on the floor. "Right there. Kneel."

As closely as he watched Harvey, it was clear to Mike that the other man was struggling -- not physically, but he appeared to be galled and perhaps offended by his treatment so far. He wasn't fighting back, though, not yet, and this pleased Mike. He didn't mind disciplining a difficult sub, usually relished it enormously in fact, but out and out brats bored him.

"Keep your hands at the small of your back, wrists crossed. Eyes directed downward. That's good." He walked around Harvey, checking his posture, and just plain admiring him. An intoxicating sense of _ownership_ surged through him, and he patiently forced it down. It was much too soon for that. He needed to break in his boy in stages. "You look so pretty on your knees," he murmured.

A derisive snort escaped Harvey, and Mike gave a quick tug to his hair.

"If I say you're pretty, then you're pretty. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Now, you indicated on your questionnaire that you would be willing to try some impact play. Everybody always thinks this is what defines the Dom/sub relationship. I do enjoy it, and if we find that you can tolerate it, and remain willing, then we can certainly log some hours in that way." He leaned against the edge of the bondage table and crossed his arms over his chest. "We'll get to that a bit later. First, I'm going to restrain you on this table." He patted it with one hand. "Then I'm going to take my time and play with you. Do you know why?"

Harvey's brows pulled down slightly, signaling his confusion. "Sir?"

"Just take a guess."

Harvey shrugged. "Because you can?"

"Exactly." He did not bother trying to disguise his pleasure and approval. It was a simple question, but a surprising number of people got it completely wrong. "Because I can. And because it pleases me to do so. When you're submitting to me, you're giving yourself over to my wants and needs. Yours count only inasmuch as they intersect with mine. Do not, however, forget the ultimate power you hold, which is the power to say no at any time. What are your safewords?"

"Red to stop, yellow to slow down."

"Use them if you need to. Until I get to know your body, I'm depending on you stop me if things become more intense than you can handle. At the same time, don't be afraid to push yourself a little." Harvey's utter concentration on Mike and what he was saying intoxicated him. Those inky dark eyes … just beautiful.

Because he could -- and because it pleased him to do so -- Mike stood and moved to stand in front of Harvey -- in front of _his boy_ \-- and ran a hand over the top of his head. Harvey's eyes fluttered closed for half a second, and whether it was from pleasure, or embarrassment, Mike couldn't have said. Either possibility met with his approval.

Mike had always been a highly tactile person. By contrast, everything about Harvey spoke of distance, and reserve, and a prickly sort of "don't touch me and don’t bore me with emotion" vibe. Until Mike had witnessed his panic attack, he had still on some level not believed Harvey capable of weakness. He knew better now, and intended to give Harvey a safe place to let go, which started with getting him used to being touched whenever and however Mike wished.

"Stand up," he ordered.

Harvey rose smoothly, and stood ramrod straight, as if moments away from snapping off a brisk salute. Too tense. That wouldn't do.

Mike walked around him, deliberately rubbing up against him, and letting his hand trail over his chest, and hip, and bottom. The act of touching Harvey was such a delight, that he vowed one day he would spend hours this way, forcing him to stand without moving while Mike explored every millimeter of him with just the pads of his fingers.

He tweaked a nipple, ran a finger along the crease at the top of his leg, and cupped and squeezed his ass cheeks. "I like that you keep yourself in such good shape," he murmured into Harvey's ear. He stood behind him, pressed up against his back, slowly feathering his fingers up and down his abs. Harvey twitched, but didn't try to move away. "From now on, whenever you're working out, I want you to tell yourself that you're doing it for me, to please me."

A pause, followed by an audible swallow, and then, "Yes, sir," answered Harvey.

"Lay down on the table. On your back."

Mike felt more than heard the slow, careful expulsion of breath. Harvey did as he'd been ordered, lying down with his arms at his sides, eyes tracking every movement that Mike made. In preparation for the scene, Mike had already placed leather cuffs at the four corners of the table. With velcro fasteners, they were quick and easy to get on and off, and he preferred them when he scened with subs that were new to him. Walking the perimeter of the table, he repositioned Harvey's limbs, restraining him at wrists and ankles, leaving him spread-eagled and vulnerable.

"Comfortable?" Mike asked.

A half-second pause. "Yes, Sir."

"Then why are you scowling at me?"

"I -- " Harvey cut himself off, as if halting whatever reflexive lie had been about to spill from his lips. "I'm sorry, Sir. A slight case of nerves. And my face just did that." A ghost of a smile appeared. "I apologize, and my face apologizes."

Mike bit off a laugh. "You and your face are forgiven." He grew serious again. "Do you trust me?"

No hesitation this time. "Yes, Sir."

"Thank you." Mike walked over to built-in shelving that still smelled like sawdust and fresh paint. Selecting several items, he carried them back to Harvey and set them on the table between his spread legs. Predictably, Harvey lifted his head, straining to see what Mike had placed there. "Lie back," Mike chided.

He petted Harvey's head, making eye contact, and feeling his heart trip over itself in his chest. The look on Harvey's face was so open and trusting that it caused the hairs on the back of Mike's neck to stand up, and a shiver to run through him. With one hand on Harvey's shoulder, he reached down and palmed Harvey's cock, stroking slowly, feeling it plump and grow hard under his touch. He kept his eyes on Harvey's face the entire time, noting the way his pupils expanded, turning espresso eyes midnight black. Daubs of pink appeared along the cheekbones in his parchment-pale face.

_Beautiful … just gorgeous._

Releasing Harvey's shoulder, he reached between his legs for the cock ring he'd left on the table, slipping it over Harvey's erection and working it into place. Harvey's only reaction was to shift minutely on the table and flex his hands.

"That's not pinching anything it shouldn't be, is it?"

"No, Sir."

He conducted a brief, internal debate. “I don't always do this, but if you continue to behave as well as you have so far, I’m going to let you come – eventually. Not before I say, though. Understood?”

Harvey nodded.

Mike picked up the bottle of lube and showed it to Harvey. “I’m going to spend some time now opening you up. This is warming lube. Have you ever used this before?”

“No, Sir.”

“The name speaks for itself. Most people enjoy the way it feels, but if you start to find the sensation too intense, be sure to let me know.”

Coating the fingers of one hand with lube, Mike massaged Harvey's tight entrance for a while, until the other man started to moan and tug restlessly at his bonds. With no warning, Mike plunged one finger deep inside him, feeling him clench around him, even as his hips jerked up. Mike wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the heady feeling of being inside of Harvey, or the possessive, primal surge of " _mine_ " that swept through him.

He took his time, working him with one finger, and then two, touching him everywhere he could reach with his other hand – knees, calves, balls, inner thighs, belly, nipples, throat. He slipped a finger under the leather collar to trace the subtle contours of his Adam's apple, feeling it bob up and down as Harvey swallowed.

Harvey rewarded his explorations with an assortment of needy sounds that Mike studiously cataloged and committed to memory. He nudged his prostate, and Harvey bit his lower lip, so Mike continued worrying it until Harvey released the low moan that had been building behind clenched teeth. Finally he pulled his fingers out and wiped them on a hand towel. Harvey whimpered, eyes fluttering closed.

“Eyes on me,” Mike murmured, and lifted the large black dildo he’d selected. “A bit bigger than last time. And it has this interesting feature.” He picked up the small remote control and pressed a button to start the dildo vibrating. Harvey gave a heartfelt groan as his fate became clear, making Mike smile. He clicked the vibrator off. “Try to relax. This might be uncomfortable at first.”

Despite having already loosened Harvey, it took a few minutes of patient effort to place the dildo fully inside of him. When Mike finally felt resistance fall away, and pushed the object all the way home, Harvey’s mouth fell open, slack and accepting. “So good for me,” Mike praised, petting his head and giving him time to adjust and get used to the feeling. “Doing okay?”

“Uh huh,” Harvey got out, nodding rapidly. “Yes, Sir. It’s fine.” But his hands were convulsively opening and closing.

“Don’t lie, boy. Tell me how you feel.”

“Uh. Full. It’s … can you take it out a little? Like half an inch maybe?”

Mike pulled the dildo back slightly, twisted it a few times, and pumped it gently in and out, nudging Harvey's prostate before leaving it place, pressed up against the sensitive gland. “How’s that?”

Harvey sighed, visibly relaxing. “That’s nice. Feels good.” A short laugh. “Thank goodness for the cock ring. Otherwise – _oh fucking fuck_!”

Mike had switched on the vibrator, and watched Harvey avidly as he arched up and cursed fluently. This part never got old. While Harvey twitched and jerked, Mike moved around the room. “I’ll let that go for a while, and then move you over to my spanking bench and see how you do with the strap.” He knew full well that Harvey hadn’t said a word, but he switched off the vibrator anyway and asked, “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“N-Nothing, Sir.” Harvey struggled to catch his breath.

“Any questions?” Before Harvey could answer, Mike tapped the remote again.

“N-no. _Shit. God fucking damn it_.”

Mike adjusted the pads and height on the spanking bench, pretending to ignore Harvey, when actually he remained acutely aware of every sound and every twitch he made. When he had the bench the way he liked it, he turned around and leaned back against it, watching Harvey with an affected, bored look on his face.

“Doing okay?”

“Sh-shit, Mike. Never knew you were such a –”

Mike tapped the remote again, turning it up to high.

“ _Fuck_!” Harvey seemed incapable of further speech for several seconds after that. A sheen of sweat had broken out on his face and chest.

“Such a what?” asked Mike, amusement lacing his voice. He pushed up to his feet and stalked over to Harvey, gazing down at him. “I’d be careful what I say right now, if I were you.” He spoke the warning gently, stroking a hand over Harvey’s tight jaw, and down his neck, feeling the tension and heat there. He waited, and then prompted, “Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

“I – No. J-just thank you, sir,” he managed through clenched teeth.

Mike smiled down at him, pleased at the response. “You’re welcome, boy.” He turned the vibrations back down to the low setting and checked his watch. “Ten more minutes, I think.”

“Ah ... _fuck_.”

Mike rearranged supplies on a table next to the spanking bench -- leather strap, condom, lube, bottled water -- and then dragged a chair over and sat where he had a good view of Harvey’s face, savoring both the effort and distress he saw there. Every so often, he turned up the speed without warning, entranced and aroused by Harvey’s beautiful suffering. It was a delicious sort of torture for both of them, and Mike could have happily let it go on much longer. He had other plans for Harvey, though, so when ten minutes had passed, he turned off the vibrator. Harvey relaxed and breathed out slowly.

“Well done, boy.” Mike gently tugged the dildo out of Harvey and set it aside. “I’m going to undo the cuffs, but don’t get up yet.” When Harvey was free, Mike helped him to sit, and passed him a bottle of water. “Drink. We don't want you getting dehydrated.” Then Mike led Harvey to the spanking bench and showed him how to arrange himself over it. “I’m not going to restrain you. Hold on here and here, and try not to move. That’s good. Just a reminder that you should use your safewords if you need to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” The words came out soft and slightly slurred. Good. Harvey was already flying a little, which would make this part more enjoyable for both of them.

Mike reached underneath him and hefted his thickly erect cock in his hand. He tightened his fist around it and felt it twitch and pulse in his hand. Harvey gasped and panted harshly, expelling a whispered, "Shitttt." Mike let him go.

“First you’ll feel my hand for ten swats. Then I’ll switch to the leather strap, for … let’s say thirty.” He lifted the strap and showed it to Harvey, who nodded, blinking slowly. “Ready?” Another slow nod.

Standing behind Harvey, Mike hesitated, simply savoring the sight of Harvey on his knees, muscular ass in the air, willingly submitting to whatever Mike wished to do to him, waiting for Mike to put his marks on him. He swallowed hard, and lifted his hand. With the first smack, Harvey jumped a little, shifted his shoulders, and relaxed. Mike hit him again, watching the way his butt jiggled – not a lot, not like some of the plump-bottomed subs he’d enjoyed in the past, but this was better, he decided as he struck again. He liked the sting that burst through his palm, and vibrated up his arm.

And Harvey … Harvey didn’t squeal or shriek -- not that Mike had expected he would -- he took it with a barely audible groan, deep in his throat, before falling silent. Mike finished the spanking with a series of brutal, rapid fire smacks, after which he paused to examine the pink imprints of his hand fanned out across Harvey's bottom, congratulating himself on his artistry. He touched the heated flesh, rubbing and squeezing, making Harvey squirm, mouth open and slack, and _holy jesus fuck_ , that was a beautiful sight.

Picking up the leather strap, Mike adjusted his grip, cocked his arm, and swung. The strap made a delicious _thwack_ as it struck Harvey’s bottom, and knocked a surprised grunt out of him. Mike smiled to himself and settled in for a good hard strapping.

He took his time, alternating sides, stopping every so often to run a hand over reddened flesh and check on his sub. Harvey's erection never wilted, which was a good sign, and his shoulders and back remained loose and relaxed. He took to it like a natural, as if he had been doing this for years. If Harvey was flying, so was Mike. He felt as if he'd been born for this.

The final ten strikes fell, even as a metronome, without any pause between them. If Mike hadn’t been counting in his head, and if he wasn’t scrupulously careful about his impact play, he might have kept right on going, swinging away until Harvey broke and screamed himself hoarse, perhaps broke down and cried. It would probably do Harvey a world of good, serving as a catharsis to clear out the fears and frustrations bottled up inside of him. Mike did not give in to temptation. He had no wish to demolish the trust that had begun to build up between them.

So, when he reached thirty, he tightened his grip on the strap and forced himself rigidly still for a moment, panting and regaining control of his emotion, before setting the strap carefully back on the table. He guzzled down an entire bottle of water and tugged off his t-shirt to wipe the perspiration from his face and chest. Tossing the t-shirt away, he approached the bench.

Harvey's eyes were closed, but they fluttered open when Mike laid his palm on his back, rubbing his thumb back and forth across damp skin. "You took that so well," he murmured. "Still doing okay?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Stay right where you are. Just relax for a minute." Mike made a few quick adjustments to the bench, bringing Harvey's knees further apart, far enough that he likely felt a mildly uncomfortable stretch, although he took it without complaint. Reaching underneath him, Mike unsnapped the cock ring and eased it off, throwing it in the direction of his discarded t-shirt. He unfastened and unzipped his own jeans, pulling himself free. Making sure to stand in Harvey's line of sight, he stroked his cock to full hardness, rolled on a condom, and briskly lubed up. "I'm going in all at once, one motion. Think you can handle me?"

"Yeah. Do it."

Mike stroked himself a few more times, standing with the head of his cock just inches from Harvey's cheek. "Tell me how much you want it."

He saw the rapid eye blinks which signaled resistance. But, "I do," whispered Harvey.

"You do what?"

A barely audible huff. "I do want you to fuck me, Sir."

"Then beg for it."

"What?"

"I said, beg for my cock. Convince me you deserve it."

Mike could see that it took Harvey a few seconds to process this, as if his thoughts had slowed to a sluggish crawl. "Please," he finally whispered with an edge of desperation, and licked his lips. "I was good for you, wasn't I? I did whatever you said." His tongue darted out again. "Could I have some more water?"

Mike toweled the lube from his hands, grabbed a bottle and held it up to Harvey's lips, letting him drink his fill while Mike stroked his back. "Yes, you were so good for me, which is why I'm going to give you what you want." He placed the bottle on the table and stood behind Harvey. "I'll tell you when it's all right to come. I intend to fuck you for a good long while first, though."

He took a few moments to admire Harvey's marked up bottom, to touch and stroke the reddened flesh, to watch Harvey squirm some more under his touch, and to listen to the sharp hiss of indrawn breath. Then he lined himself up and shoved home, true to his word as he continued his forward motion until his groin rested against Harvey's bottom.

Harvey let out a surprised sounding yell, his knuckles whitening where he gripped the hand rests. Mike's voice joined his in a heartfelt groan, forced out of him by the feel of Harvey's channel squeezing him like a hot, velvet glove. He dragged out, thrust deep, and held. Leaning in, he kissed the center of Harvey's back and then licked slowly up, tasting salt, all the way up to his neck, stopping just below his ear. "Ready for a hard ride?" he murmured.

Harvey nodded jerkily.

"I didn't hear you."

"Yes, Sir," Harvey muttered, as if the words had stuck in his throat. "Do it. _Fuck_. Please."

Grabbing Harvey's hair, he yanked back, close to the point of cruelty, forcing his head up and slightly around, until he could almost look Mike in the eye. "I don't care for your tone, boy. Now beg me again, like you mean it."

Harvey seemed to struggle to draw a breath, and his eyes rolled up like a spooked horse, whites showing. "I'm sorry," he groaned. "I want it. I do. Want you to ride me hard. Want you to use me. Make me … make me take it. Please, Sir. I-I can't …" He gave an abortive sob and the tension seemed to bleed right out of him.

Mike threaded fingers through Harvey's hair, massaging his scalp. "Yes. That's it. Such a good boy for me. I'll give you what you need. Just hold on tight and take it."

Mike started out slowly, pulling out to the feel of Harvey's insides gripping him, and plunging back into the welcoming heat. After the third thrust, he lowered his jeans to his knees, mindful of the zipper's metal teeth which threatened damage to tender flesh -- both his and Harvey's. He settled then into a slow, steady pumping, keeping it leisurely, taking his time and letting his hands roam Harvey's body, rubbing and pinching his nipples, playing with his balls, teasing his inner thighs with his fingernails.

The feel of Harvey … the sounds he made … all of it was driving Mike towards the edge faster than he'd intended. He paused once more, deep inside of Harvey, biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut as he sought to calm himself. Taking mental stock of the situation, he realized he was not going to last much longer.

"All right," he gasped, "you can come any time, but fair warning -- I'm not going to touch you. I want you to come just from the feel of me inside of you."

Harvey whimpered. "I don't know … I'm not sure … "

"Come or don't. Your choice. Just stay still while I fuck you." Without waiting for a reply, he pulled out, took a firm hold of Harvey's hips, and began stroking in and out, fast and hard. He changed his angle, and knew he'd found his target when Harvey threw his head back and cried out. Joy and power, mixed up together in an exhilarating tangle, filled Mike. He slammed into Harvey, over and over, lip curled up in snarl, cursing and grunting like an animal.

He could feel Harvey start to tremble beneath his hands. His boy tensed and froze, and then began to shudder violently, curled over the center support of the bench as a wordless cry ripped out of his throat. His ass clenched around Mike like a vise, who went little crazy then, shoving in, just taking his pleasure, using his boy, biting down on his shoulder, fingers leaving bruises, growling curses in his ear as his spine ignited and melted and he came explosively with his arms wrapped around Harvey and his face buried against his neck.

******

Harvey had no clear recollection of making the short trip from the play room to Mike's bed, but there he now found himself, lax and stupid and incapable of doing anything more than sprawling bonelessly while Mike pampered him. First he cleaned Harvey, and then rolled him onto his stomach and rubbed lotion onto his sore bottom, strong fingers now careful and gentle against his tender flesh. After that, he plied him with water, and gave him the choice of eating dinner in bed, or moving to the living room. Maybe Mike didn't mind crumbs in bed, but Harvey couldn't stand them, so he picked option B, and let Mike lead him out to the couch and install him there, wrapped up in Mike's comforter.

"Next time," said Mike, "bring a supply of comfortable clothes to wear afterwards. Sweats, pajama pants, t-shirts."

Mike dished up a plate of food for him which looked and smelled like curry, with a green salad on the side. Harvey poked a fork into the curry, unable to detect any meat floating amongst the vegetables. He took a cautious bite, followed by a second, more enthusiastic one. "This is good," he said through a mouthful of food. "You a vegetarian or something?"

"Maybe ninety percent of the time. I still enjoy a good steak every now and then."

Harvey grunted as he chewed, remembering the first time they'd gone out for a steak dinner -- the time Rachel was in the hospital. He'd been worried for Rachel, worried for Mike, and despising the jealousy that had flared up within himself at the time. He drank some water and eyed Mike, who had his plate balanced on one hand while he tucked into the food. He appeared ravenously hungry, unlike Harvey, who managed only perhaps a third of his plate before giving up.

They hadn't yet talked about the scene, which was fine with Harvey. Not that he regretted anything -- did he? He reached up to touch the collar that still circled his neck. Just that simple act, finger rubbing against the cool leather, calmed his mind, recreating a sense of peace, not unlike what he'd felt tied to the table, and curled over the bench, giving himself over to Mike. It had felt … safe. Still, a part of him cringed in disbelief over how he'd behaved, how he'd crawled, how he'd _begged_ Mike. As he replayed it now in his mind, uncertainty crept in. What was he even doing?

He glanced over at Mike to find himself being watched. "What are you thinking, Harvey? Talk to me."

Harvey sighed and set his plate down on the coffee table. He shifted on his seat, reawakening the ache in his bottom. Surprisingly, the pain served to ground him, enough so that he could look Mike in the eye and admit, "I'm a little freaked out."

"How so?"

He struggled to put it into words. He should be a pro at expressing his murky feelings by now, after all the hours he'd spent revealing himself, piece by painful piece, to Dr. Agard. Thoughts of the doctor had him wondering if he'd have the courage to talk to her about this thing he'd begun with Mike. Yes, he decided, he probably would. She'd seen and heard the worst of him already. Maybe she'd have some insight into his newfound desire to submit.

"Harvey?"

Mike expected an answer, and Harvey did still wear his collar. "It's about … perspective, I suppose. My bedrock belief in who I am. Who I was. This … every single thing we just did in that room butts right up against that belief." He shrugged helplessly. "Everything about it is unsettling. I'm not saying it feels wrong, or that I want to stop. I don't want to stop."

"You liked it," stated Mike, as if there could be no argument.

Harvey's gaze went unfocused as he stared into the middle distance. "No. I loved it." He rubbed a hand over the top of his head, pressing the heel to his forehead. "God. What does that say about me?"

"Does it have to say anything? I mean, for that matter, what do my inclinations say about me? I just got done beating the hell out of you. Am I a bad person? An abuser?"

"Of course not." He thought for a minute. "To be honest, the sex was unreal."

Mike inclined his head, as if accepting his due. "Tell me how you felt when I was beating you with the strap."

Harvey shifted, pulling the comforter closer together to hide the movement of his hand onto his dick. He didn't stroke, just held himself and rubbed a thumb up and down the side of his dick. His eyes fluttered closed as he called up the sensation of the heavy leather striking his bottom. Mike had an impressive swing. Viciously impressive. It had hurt, no doubt about that, but it was more complicated than that. His position, kneeling for Mike, handing his power over to Mike, taking whatever he gave him …

"I felt like … I would give you anything. Everything. Each strike felt like a brand, like you were emptying me out to fill up with something cleaner and more pure." He laughed, embarrassed by his emotional speech. "I don't know, Mike. I liked it. Loved it. I can't wait to do it again."

Mike, he realized, was watching him with an odd, fixed expression that caused his eyes to shine in the dim light. That hungry look was back. Mike's mouth twitched up into a pinched smile and he nodded once. "Good. I'm glad."

He stood abruptly and grabbed the dishes, carrying them into the kitchen. As he stacked them in the sink, he spoke to Harvey over his shoulder. "We never talked about this, but you're welcome to spend the night. This is your choice, but I'd like to keep you here, in my bed, where I can keep an eye on you. As scenes go, that one wasn't particularly intense, but this is new to you. I'd rather you were here with me if you start to drop."

Should he stay? A part of Harvey wanted that, wanted to sink into bed with Mike and curl around him, to feel the Dom's heart beating beneath his head, his chest moving up and down, and his warm breaths drifting across Harvey's skin.

Another part of him only wanted to flee, to go home, regroup, and try to make sense of what had happened here tonight. He pictured waking up in the morning with Mike, then going to work with him afterwards, sitting (gingerly) in meetings with him, trying to be powerful Harvey Specter, imposing his will upon the world, all the while still feeling the bruises on his hips from where Mike's fingers had dug into him as he pounded his ass into oblivion.

How would that even work? No, he needed a buffer, needed to give himself some distance and a night apart to recalibrate.

"Maybe another time," he finally said.

Mike nodded, face giving nothing away. "That's fine." He turned around, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Starting next week, you'll be cleaning up after our scene. I'll show you what you need to do then. Tonight, I'll take care of it." He glanced at his watch. "Would you like me to call you a cab?"

Ignoring his own disappointment -- because how absurd was that? -- he nodded. "Sure. That would be great." He started to stand, but Mike halted him with a hand on his shoulder.

"First, kneel for me one more time."

It was like the breath had been knocked out of him -- in a good way. He disentangled himself from the comforter, and settled onto his knees. He had half a second of amused confusion -- was he about to be knighted? -- and then Mike's hands touched his neck, fingers working to unfasten the buckle of his collar. Leather slithered across his skin and away, leaving him weirdly chilled. He remained frozen in place for several seconds, waiting for permission to move.

"That's it Harvey. We're done. Go ahead and get dressed."

He struggled to his feet, more awkward than he'd been all night. "All right. Thanks, Mike."

But Mike was already on the phone, working on getting the promised cab. There seemed nothing else for Harvey to do put but go find his clothes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Everything seemed fine at work for the next few days. If Harvey had been worried that either he or Mike would behave any differently with one another, this served to ease his mind. In fact, as was normal these days more often than not, they barely saw each other during the day. Harvey had a huge IPO to deal with, and Mike was busy with his own clients.

The day after their scene, Harvey reached détente with Donna, which lessened his overall anxiety. That evening, he began his weekly session with Dr. Agard talking about Donna.

"I think she was looking for some kind of acknowledgement of our years together, and to get closure. Maybe I needed that too. I'm feeling more in control of myself right now than I have since she left."

"That's wonderful, Harvey." Dr. Agard regarded him thoughtfully. "I can see it. I saw it when you first walked in here tonight. You appear so much more relaxed and -- dare I say it? -- happy. Would you say this is all because of your progress with Donna?"

Tempting as it was to agree, Harvey chose honesty. "It's partly that, and partly … Something happened with Mike."

"Mike. That's your associate? You've mentioned him once or twice, but I never got a good grasp of your relationship with him. Can you tell me about that?"

"Ah. It's complicated. Even more complicated now.   Mike was my associate. He left the firm for a while, and when he came back, he didn't work exclusively for my anymore.   And he's recently been made junior partner. It would be more accurate now to call him my colleague, rather than my employee. He's a brilliant attorney."

"That's all fascinating, Harvey, but it doesn't answer my question."

She began doing that staring and waiting thing that was evidently a required course at therapist school. It was also a page from Harvey's own playbook, and it annoyed him to have it used against him. It did the job though, because he found himself fidgeting, heaving a long sigh, and confessing all.

"He doesn't know this, but one of the reasons I hired him was because I … because he … I harbored hopes that maybe the two of us … "

"You hired him to get into his pants."

"In my defense, I've experienced some emotional growth since then."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Get into his pants."

Harvey found himself fidgeting again, and forced himself to stillness, crossing one leg over the other and adjusting the crease in his pant leg. "He didn't seem interested. In fact he began a series of affairs with women, ending with one of the paralegals at the firm, to whom he eventually became engaged."

"Ouch. That must have been difficult for you to witness, feeling as you did."

He waved a hand dismissively. "I had no claim on him. Believe it or not, I wanted him to be happy. I thought Rachel would make him happy. Turns out, she didn't. They called the engagement off."

"I see. And you say something happened with Mike which has altered your demeanor. I'd like to hear about that. What happened?"

He'd remained calm so far, but now his stomach clenched as they approached the crux of the matter. "Please keep an open mind."

Dr. Agard gave him a wry look. "That is literally part of my job description."

Harvey nodded even as he took a series of calming breaths. "Mike witnessed one of my panic attacks last week. He was … great. Supportive. Non-judgmental. If it had been anyone but him, that would have made the episode so much worse, but it was him, and I found I didn't mind that he'd seen me like that. Then he took me home and we … did the deed."

"Congratulations. I'm guessing there's more though?"

"There is. Afterwards, we talked for a while, and he suggested an arrangement."   He paused, searching for the best way to explain it. "Are you familiar with the concept of power exchange?"

Her eyebrows lifted delicately. "He asked to become your sub?"

"No."

She stared and waited.

"Flip it," he finally managed, making a corresponding motion with his hand, as if that would make things more clear.

She got it though, and appeared to be struggling to maintain her neutral expression. "I see." These two words, he had decided during earlier sessions, were "therapist-speak" for "that is odd and surprising but I don't wish to show you my honest reaction to your unexpected revelation."

He decided to tell her everything, if only in an attempt to force a more genuine reaction out of her. "Last night, I wore his collar. We went into his playroom and he cuffed me to a table."

"A bondage table?"

The breath left his lungs in a rush, but he managed to confirm it with a barely audible, "Yeah."

"Ah."

He could feel his cheeks heating as he remembered all that had happened. "I don't suppose I need to get too graphic here. We did things. He did thing to me, I should clarify. Later, he, uh, he spanked me. I liked it. There was sex. I liked that too. Then we ate dinner, and I went home."

"Hmm." She tapped one finger on the arm of her chair. "I hope you're only glossing over the part where Mike provided aftercare, and made sure you were okay."

"I was. He did. He even asked me to spend the night."

"But you turned him down. Interesting."

It wasn't easy maintaining eye contact with her, but he managed it somehow, even as he reflected that this woman possessed the ability to piss him off more than almost anyone he'd ever known. "I said before: it's complicated. I didn't feel that staying the night would be a good idea. It might make things messy. We agreed to keep our working relationship the same as it's always been."

"Colleagues."

"Yes. Colleagues. However, I am a name partner, with many more years of experience under my belt." _And a law degree,_ he almost added, but remembered in time that this was one thing he had not confided to Dr. Agard.

"You made it sound earlier as if the two of you were on equal footing at work. Now I'm hearing something different. You still consider yourself his superior, correct?"

"Well, yeah. I suppose I always will, on some level. What's wrong with that?"

"I didn't say anything was wrong with it. I just wonder how your new dynamic outside of work will affect your working relationship."

"You and me both," he muttered. "Got any advice?"

She was silent for a minute as she appeared to think about it.   "Mike is an experienced Dom, yes? Would you say he knows what he's doing?"

"Sure. As far as I can tell."

"Then trust him to do the right thing. Speak up, obviously, if anything concerns you or makes you uncomfortable in ways they're not meant to. Keep those lines strongly drawn between work and personal. And be prepared to learn things about yourself that might be difficult to accept. I'll admit you caught me by surprise with this news, but for somebody with your trust issues, this is potentially an excellent growth opportunity for you."

He narrowed his eyes, wondering just how much she knew about this new world he’d begun to explore. "Anything you'd care to share with the class, doctor?"

Her eyes may have twinkled, but it was difficult to say for sure. "No, there is not. This is about you, not me."

"Right." He knew that, and he'd learned not to push, but he couldn't stop himself from picturing the attractive woman in front of him modeling a number of highly interesting outfits.

 

******

 

The following day, a Friday, Harvey asked Mike to sit in on a client meeting with him. Leonard Gray owned a chocolate manufacturing company he was taking public with Harvey's help, and Mike had provided an assist, scouring the company's records for potential problems, and reviewing the drafts of the SEC filing documents.

The meeting started out routinely enough, but then Mike threw an unexpected wrench into the works by presenting a proposal for a buyout from a large, national candy manufacturer.

“Mike,” Harvey interrupted him, trying to remain calm. “What are you doing?”

In response, Mike held up a finger, the implication being that Harvey should shush. “I’m explaining to Leonard how he can make twice as much money with half the headaches.” He tapped the documents on the table in front of him. “I’ve crunched the numbers, and they all add up.”

Harvey couldn't believe what he was hearing. They hadn't discussed any of this beforehand. He might have glared at Mike, but did not want to give away the fact that they weren't on the same page.

Leonard Gray looked as if he'd like to punch the wall -- or more likely, Mike -- and Harvey could scarcely blame him.

"What the fuck is this?" demanded Gray. "I'm paying you to do whatever the hell I tell you to do, not to cut my goddamn legs out from under me." He stood up, as if on the verge of storming out.

Harvey stood as well. "Leonard, I'm sure if you'll just give Mike a minute -- "

"Harvey," barked Mike, "Stop. I've got this."

"Mike -- "

"Sit."

Shocked by the sharp order, Harvey sat. Something cold and oily washed through him that felt too close to humiliation. _Had Mike just -- ? Had he really?_

Mike and Gray argued back and forth, but Harvey missed almost all of what was said. His shock was bleeding into anger at Mike, because how dare he? They'd had an agreement. Work was meant to remain separate from what went on between them in private. Harvey knew he wasn’t mistaken. Mike had just used his “Dom” voice on him, and Harvey had responded to it by … _jesus god this was not happening_.

He sat and he fumed, and only gradually tuned into the fact that Gray had gone from annoyance to nodding and agreeing with Mike. It didn't surprise Harvey that Mike had argued his way back on top. Normally he'd be feeling pride at his cleverness. Right now, it was all he could do to keep his face wiped clean of emotion.

Mike was going to hear about this as soon as Harvey got him alone.

“Harvey,” said Gray, “you’ve got yourself a sharp one here.”

He and Mike were standing, all smiles and handshakes. Harvey hurriedly got to his feet, wondering what he had missed. He shook Gray’s proffered hand. “Don’t I know it,” he finally answered. “He’s full of surprises, this one.”

They escorted Gray to the elevators, where another round of handshakes and shoulder slaps ensued. Harvey waited until the elevator doors had closed on the client’s smiling face before he snapped, without looking at Mike, “My office. Now.”

 

******

 

Mike didn’t blame Harvey for being angry. He knew he’d crossed a line with Gray, and he couldn’t explain precisely why he’d done it, even to himself. Maybe it had simply been too tempting to see how Harvey would react. It was a dick move, though, motivated by too many years of being forced to pretend that he was not the smartest person in the room.

“Go ahead,” he said when they were alone in Harvey’s office. “Let me have it.”

For long moments, Harvey appeared too angry to even speak. He sat heavily behind his desk, leaning back in his chair and swiveling to one side, so that they were not looking one another in the eye.

“It’s not,” began Harvey, jaw tense, “so much that you went behind my back to work this deal for Gray. It’s not like you haven’t pulled that shit before. You’ve almost become predictable in that respect.”

“And I was right.”

Harvey turned his chair slowly, until Mike was caught in his dark gaze. God, he was beautiful like this, throwing off sparks and threatening to shoot flames all over the room.

“You were right,” Harvey repeated flatly, with no inflection to indicate how he felt about that. “You know, Mike, you seem to think that being right excuses everything.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Jesus … Leaving that aside for the moment – ” He made a slicing motion in the air with one hand. “I don’t give a shit what we do on Wednesday nights." He lowered his voice. "I don’t care if you make me crawl, and lick your feet, and take it up the ass with a – with a – I don’t know what. Whatever. A hand grenade. The point is, here at work, I still expect your goddamned respect. No, I don’t just expect it, I _demand_ it. Is that perfectly clear?”

A vein throbbed in Harvey’s temple with the force of his emotion, and Mike, weirdly, wanted to lick at it until it stopped. But. He’d gone too far. He knew this.

“I’m sorry, Harvey.” He sat down across from him. “I got caught up in the moment. Sometimes … I don’t know … I have too much crazy energy buzzing around inside of me and … just … just … ” He realized his hands had curled into tight fists and his voice shook with emotion. Taking several slow breaths, he debated the wisdom of sharing this level of honesty with Harvey – with _anyone_ , for that matter. He gave an uncertain laugh. “Sometimes I think what I really need is my own business to run. Or a small country.”

Harvey was giving him a strange look. “When exactly did you turn from that awkward kid I hired into … _this_?”

Mike was unsure how to respond to that question. “I haven’t turned into anything. I’ve only gained some self-confidence along the way, and we have you to thank for that.”

“Self-confidence is one thing. What you displayed today was outright arrogance.”

“Coming from you, that sounds suspiciously like a compliment.” Mike caught the tightening of Harvey’s features, and wondered why he continued to antagonize him. He’d come in here with the intention of apologizing and smoothing things over, and here he was only making it worse. He hadn’t forgotten their agreement to keep work and personal separate, and agreed with it in theory. He hadn't realized how difficult that would turn out to be in practice. He loved dominating Harvey. It was an absolute rush to witness this strong, outwardly self-assured man let go and give it all up for Mike. It was addictive. Mike could not and would not give that up, which was why he needed to convince Harvey, right now, that this sort of slip-up would not happen again.

“Look, Harvey, I said I was sorry and I meant it. Can I help it if it’s such a turn on when you follow my orders like you just did in there?” Harvey moved restlessly, as if he meant to interrupt, and Mike held up one hand to stop him. “And that's completely beside the point. I’ll do better. I promise.”

Harvey’s expression remained bleak, as if he hadn’t been convinced yet. “I hope that’s true. If I see even a hint of a replay of what just went on in that conference room, I don’t see how we can continue as we were.”

 _Shit. Had he blown it?_ “Are you talking about here at work? Or Wednesday nights?”

Harvey couldn’t seem to meet his gaze, and kept his own lowered, glued to the desktop. “I mean here,” he bit out, “working cases together.” A faint wash of pink colored his cheekbones.

Mike could have pumped his fist in triumph. If Harvey had to choose between work and personal, it would be the latter, and that caused all kinds of joy and giddy celebration to rattle around inside of Mike. Did this mean he could push a little harder on Wednesday nights? He liked that possibility so much. Plans began to form in his mind. He’d insist that Harvey spend the night, for one thing. Maybe they should shift things to the weekend. What if he could keep his collar on Harvey all weekend? They would also have more time to spend at Mike’s club that way. He could picture it already, Harvey walking (crawling?) at his side, kneeling for him.

“Mike?” Uncertainty filled Harvey’s voice.

“I’d prefer both,” Mike said, responding to Harvey’s last comment. “I’ll do my best to restrain myself at the office.” _And restrain you as often as I can after hours._ “Will you give me another chance?”

“Of course. Don’t expect any more chances after this one, though.”

“Yes, sir,” said Mike, and hid his smile at the quick, sharp glance Harvey gave him. “See? I can compartmentalize.”

Harvey shook head, but Mike could see the smile fighting to break free. “Get the hell out of here.”

Mike stood up, but remained in front of Harvey’s desk. He held a rapid internal debate, and decided that he had nothing to lose by asking. “Would you like to come over this weekend?”

Harvey appeared instantly on guard. “This weekend? For … ?”

“Wednesday nights work great for me, don’t get me wrong. I was just thinking that if we moved our sessions to Saturday night, neither of us would have to worry about getting up in the morning.”

He saw Harvey’s eyes flicker toward the hallway and then back to Mike, checking to make sure no one was approaching. Gretchen sat at her desk, but it had already been established that she did not listen in the way Donna had. “Okay,” Harvey finally said. “Agreed. But, ah … ” Another faint blush crept over his face. “I’m still sore from two nights ago. Could we not … ?”

“No spanking. Got it.”

Harvey rubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck. When does this stop feeling so surreal?”

Mike didn’t have a definitive answer for that. “Don’t overthink it. Don’t obsess. It will be okay, I promise.”

Harvey gave a low grunt, signaling that he might not believe Mike one hundred percent, but was done arguing about it. “What time Saturday?”

“Are you planning to work at all tomorrow?”

“Half a day, give or take.”

“Think you can be at my place by three?”

Harvey’s smile was tentative but genuine. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

 

******

 

Harvey would never admit to Mike – and could hardly admit it to himself – how much he looked forward to Saturday at three o’clock. Concentrating on work proved nearly impossible, but he persevered at his desk until just past noon. He headed home and took a leisurely run, followed by an even more leisurely shower. Mindful of Mike’s instructions Wednesday night, he pulled out a gym bag and stuffed it with sweat pants, a long sleeved t-shirt and a soft hoodie. He looked down at what he was wearing – grey trousers and black Henley – and decided it was fine. He doubted he’d be in his clothes for long once he got there.

A quick cab ride had him at Mike’s building at a minute to three. When Mike opened the door to his apartment, he gave Harvey a slow perusal, smiled, and ushered him inside.

“Kneel, please.”

Harvey did so, remaining still while Mike fastened the collar around his neck. He let out a slow breath, feeling familiar peace seep into him. “Thank you, sir.”

Mike made a sound that might have been an abortive chuckle. “For what?”

“If you have to ask … ” He glanced up to see Mike’s warning look, and quickly amended, “For this.”

Intuition told him that Mike wanted more, but that was the most Harvey could manage at the moment.

Mike nodded once, letting it go. “I thought I’d take you to the club with me tonight.”

At that news, Harvey experienced a jolt of alarm. They were taking this public? “I’m not sure … ”

Mike placed a hand on his shoulder, in a gesture he probably meant to be reassuring. “What has you worried?”

“It’s a public place.”

“Filled with like-minded people. I promise you won’t feel out of place. What else?”

“Do you expect public nudity? Because I don’t think I can do that.”

“I intend to break you in slowly.” He held the side of Harvey’s neck, rubbing his thumb over and over across the collar. “You’ll be fully clothed on your first visit. No fetish wear. I usually don't go in for that too much anyway. What you have on is fine.”

“But? You said my first visit. What if we go back?”

“We’ll discuss that after you’ve gotten a better feel for the place.”

Harvey’s worries weren’t completely put to rest, but now he knew he didn’t have to be concerned about tonight – not about his wardrobe, anyway.

Mike removed his hand and Harvey had to force himself not to chase after the comforting contact.

“We have a few hours before we leave,” said Mike. “And I still have some work to do.”

“Would you like some help, sir?”

“No. Thank you for the offer, but what I want from you is to get into the right frame of mind for tonight. I’d like you to take off your clothes and follow me to the living room. I’m going to restrain you, and you’re going to remain by my side while I work. You’re not to speak, or move without my permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Strip.”

 

******

 

Harvey’s presence proved to be a distraction, to say the least. Mike hadn’t been kidding when he’d told him he had work to do. Jessica had him working on a merger with Jack Soloff, in the interest of burying the hatchet. In Mike’s own mind, he had labeled it as “learning to play well with others.” He wasn’t entirely certain why Jessica had thrown him into the mix. If she was attempting to promote peace within the firm, she should have paired Harvey up with Soloff. Although, with Harvey’s recent hair trigger temper, perhaps that was not such a good idea. Jessica Pearson was nothing if not adept at sniffing out potential catastrophe.

Mike didn’t mind. Much. Working with Soloff proved far less painful than teaming up with Robert Zane had been. Although Jack was abrasive and twitchy, he was reasonably sharp and not shy about expressing his appreciation for Mike’s talents. Maybe he felt a proprietary interest in Mike, since it had been him who put his name forward to become a junior partner. Mike’s fears that Soloff only did this as some sort of scheme to expose him had all but vanished as time went by and nothing happened. Mike was putting in the extra hours this weekend to ensure that he was one hundred and ten percent up to speed on the merger and the two companies involved.

He’d settled Harvey on the floor near his feet, allowing him a cushion to sit on. Mike would be at this until seven, when he had planned dinner, and had no wish to cause Harvey unnecessary discomfort. He’d arranged him with his knees up, wrapped bondage tape around his ankles, and cuffed his wrists behind his back, leaving a few inches of slack to avoid strain on his shoulders. Not today, but soon, he’d add a blindfold and gag. This, though, was enough for now.

Harvey remained still for the first half hour. He began to shift and fidget after that, distracting Mike from his work.

“Doing okay?” asked Mike, eyeing him over the top of a shareholders report.

Harvey’s mouth came open, but he caught himself before he spoke, and instead gave an eloquent shrug.

“Bored?”

Another half shrug, followed by a quick head shake.

“Hmm.” Mike pretended to mull things over, but he knew what he wanted from Harvey. After a minute, he patted his thigh. “Come closer and rest your head here.”

Harvey did so. The weight of his head against Mike’s leg was … nice. He dug his fingers into Harvey’s hair and massaged lightly, receiving a soft sigh in response.

“Comfortable?”

A nod against his thigh.

“Good. If you get sleepy, you can take a nap. We’ve got about three hours left here. You can make small shifts if you need to, but if for any reason the position grows unbearably uncomfortable, tap my knee to get my attention. Nod if you understand.”

Harvey nodded, and Mike rewarded him with a slow neck rub which gradually moved to Harvey's head. As he became engrossed in work once more, he let his hand rest on Harvey’s head, playing idly with his soft strands of hair. A few minutes later, he glanced down to find Harvey’s eyes closed and his breathing slow and even. Mike couldn’t help his fond smile at the sight. Seeing him like this, loose and lax and vulnerable, Mike knew for certain that he wanted Harvey to share his bed, where he could feast on this sight all night long if he chose to.

***

“Wake up, boy.” Mike threaded his fingers through Harvey’s hair and gave a gentle tug. “Time for dinner.”

Harvey’s eyes fluttered open, blank and sleepy. Realizing where he was, he jerked upright and struggled for half a second against the cuffs until he remembered. He fixed his liquid gaze on Mike, waiting to be told what to do.

“Stay here. I’m going into the kitchen to heat up our dinner and fix a plate. Will you be okay for a couple of minutes? I can see you from the kitchen.”

Harvey nodded yes, and Mike pushed to his feet. A salad chilled in the refrigerator. Two minutes in the microwave heated up the butternut squash soup, and thick slices of buttered pumpernickel bread completed the meal. He carried the food back into the living room, and was met by a quizzical look from Harvey.

“That’s right,” said Mike. “One plate. One bowl of soup. One set of utensils. I’m going to feed you.”

Was that shock on Harvey’s face? He frowned up at Mike, bit his lip, and finally nodded his assent, eye roll implied.

“This is all part of the preparation for tonight.” He arranged the food on the coffee table and draped a towel over Harvey’s lap. “In case of drips,” he explained. “Hot soup is hot.”

This time, Harvey’s eye roll was actual, not implied. Mike let it pass, just this once. He lifted the bowl of soup and took a spoonful for himself, testing the temperature. “I’ll let that cool for another minute.” Breaking off a piece of bread, he held it to Harvey’s lips. “I think you’ll like this. I get it at the bakery just down the street from our building.” He tucked the bread into Harvey’s mouth, watching while he chewed and swallowed. He took a piece for himself. “You like that?”

Harvey indicated that, yes, he did, even as he kept his gaze lowered. _Still resisting a bit,_ Mike judged. He fixed a forkful of salad, and then used his other hand to touch Harvey under his chin, lifting his unresisting head until he could look him in the eye. Harvey’s mouth turned down at the edges, but he opened up just the same. Mike fed him the salad and used his thumb to wipe some excess dressing from his chin.

They continued on for a time, getting into a rhythm. Mike fed Harvey, then himself, then Harvey, then himself. When the salad was mostly gone, they started on the soup. This proved a little trickier. Mike wouldn’t admit it to Harvey, but he’d never actually done this before, even if he had sometimes thought about with one or two of the men who he'd brought home from the club. The act had seemed too intimate for those casual relationships, which was ironic, considering the multitude of ways in which he'd used their bodies.

If Harvey was uncomfortable now, Mike was right there behind him. At the same time, despite the awkwardness inherent in the act of feeding his boss as if he was a toddler, Mike found it hugely satisfying. And it seemed to be working, performing the function, as he’d intended, of calming Harvey down, and stripping away his stiffest defenses. As he anticipated the next spoonful, and opened his mouth like a baby bird, waiting patiently, his vulnerability caused Mike’s throat to close up with undefined emotion. This sense of control, of power handed over to him willingly, with such little fuss or reservation, filled him with elation unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

It made him want more. He wanted to spend long days and nights waiting for Harvey to request permission for the simplest things – for the right to piss, or defecate, or stand up, or please his Dom. He wanted to torment him for hours, until he begged to be allowed to come, and had to accept his fate when Mike denied him that privilege, for no other reason than a passing whim. He wanted to tie him to the cross in the play room and use a single tail to paint him like a work of art, and bathe in his screams and groans of pleasure.

He allowed himself to think all of this, face blank of emotion, even as he acknowledged the dangerous place his thoughts were heading. This wasn’t just about him – Mike – and Harvey was not a toy for him to play with, not really. He’d started this all off by telling himself he only wanted to help Harvey get past his panic attacks. He needed to keep that in the forefront of his thoughts. If Harvey placed his trust in Mike, he needed to respect and honor that, and do what was right for Harvey, not simply indulge his own desire to play and exert total control. If it turned out that Harvey wanted the same things, well then, that would be heaven.

He fed the last of the soup to Harvey, carefully wiped his lips with a napkin, and looked down into his uncertain eyes. On a sudden impulse, he leaned down and kissed Harvey’s lips. It lasted only a second or two, and his tongue barely crept past his lips. It was the sweetest kiss he could remember, although he couldn't be sure if Harvey felt the same way. He was staring at Mike, a considering look on his face that hadn’t been there a second earlier.

Mike hadn’t meant to say anything, had only meant to send Harvey to get dressed. But his mouth was open and the words were tumbling out before he could stop them. “Get used to it boy. While you’re here, wearing my collar, I intend to control everything that goes into your mouth – into your body. That includes food, drink … ” He kissed him again, more slowly, letting his tongue linger inside of Harvey’s mouth, tasting the dinner they had just shared. “My tongue.” His hand slipped down between Harvey’s legs. “My hand. My dick. Whatever I decide. You belong to me. You’re mine.” He hooked a finger underneath the leather collar and tugged on it to emphasize his words. “Mine. Every inch of you. Nod if you understand.”

He saw no hesitation, no equivocation. Harvey nodded, solid and slow, and Mike felt his chest expand with happiness. This was going to work. He was finally going to get what he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some sketchy BDSM behavior in this chapter, just so's ya know.
> 
> Like I think I mentioned before, this is loosely S5, but definitely AU. I wouldn't say there are spoilers to the last few eps of the season, not exactly, because things will play out differently than on the show, but if you haven't seen those eps yet, this chapter might point toward things that happened ... so you've been warned.

As the weeks passed and Mike’s relationship with Harvey grew more and more solid, contentment seeped into every part of him. His life finally made sense. Between work, and the hours he spent with Harvey outside of work, he now had more than enough challenges to satisfy his restless, searching spirit. There had been no repeat of his ill-considered overreach during the Gray merger.   The three-pronged attack on the firm from Soloff, Hardman and Forstman had been dealt with and quashed. Jessica found an ally with deeper pockets than Forstman, and they'd all been pleased to let him continue to rot away in prison.

Everyone around him seemed happy and harmonious – as much as anyone ever could be in a pressure cooker like their firm was.  

That's why, went it came, the shock was particularly jarring.

 

******

 

It was a Friday night. Harvey had agreed to start their weekend early, and accompany Mike to the club. Mike had booked a semi-private room for them, and intended to put his boy on display. He'd announced to Harvey that he had bought all new toys just for the occasion. On their two previous visits, they'd been spectators only. Mike told Harvey he wanted him to get used to the place, and get used to the idea of scening with an audience. The thought still made Harvey nervous, but at the same time it excited him, and he was eager for work to end, so they could play.

"Let's ride to my place together," Mike said when he poked his head into Harvey's office just after six. "Meet me at the elevator in ten minutes."

Gretchen had already left, and no one else was nearby, so, "Yes, sir," Harvey murmured, and shivered as Mike's eyes darkened in approval.

Alone in his office, Harvey fought a smile as he finished up the paragraph he'd been typing, saved the document, and logged off. He slipped his jacket on before reaching for the gym bag under his desk which contained the clothing he needed for his weekend at Mike's. He took a couple of slow, deep breaths, starting to transition into the proper mindset for tonight.

Donna burst into his office without knocking. The look of pure panic on her face had him rising to his feet in alarm.

"Harvey. It's Mike. He's been arrested. Two federal marshals just escorted him out of here in handcuffs."

The bottom dropped out of Harvey's world.

" _What?_ Why?"

"Conspiracy to commit fraud."

His pulse accelerated, the room grew strangely distorted around him, and he felt clammy and lightheaded. "Where is he? Have they left the building?" He couldn't seem to draw a proper breath. His chest heaved as he gasped jerkily.

"Oh shit, Harvey. Sit down. What is wrong with you?"

He was having a panic attack. This could not happen. Not now, when Mike needed him. Dazed, he watched Donna pick up the phone, and this reminded him so sharply of the day that Mike had witnessed another panic attack, that the chaos inside his head was shocked into stillness. Temporary calm descended, and he was able to speak in a nearly normal voice.

"It's okay, Donna. I'm okay. Put down the phone."

"I'm calling 911." But she’d paused, receiver raised halfway to her ear, one finger poised over the keypad.

"No. It's not necessary. Whatever it was, it's passed. I need to get to Mike. Now."

Jessica's voice came from the doorway. "That is a bad idea, Harvey. If you do that, you're going to look as guilty as Mike, and drag the whole firm down with him. Right now, the best thing is to keep our distance and wait to see what happens."

Not long into his new relationship with Mike, Harvey had admitted to himself that through all of the years of his association with Jessica, she had been acting as his de facto Domme, whether either of them realized it or not. They both allowed the world to see him as the alpha dog, but Jessica could always bring him to heel. That power had shifted wholly and unreservedly to Mike, but no one had ever let Jessica in on that little secret.

Now, Harvey felt the familiar pull toward obedience, and for the briefest moment, he felt torn in two. It didn’t last. Over the last months, Mike had become his true north, and he had to locate him, to see that he was okay, and get him the hell out of there – wherever there was.

"Jessica," he said, controlling the tremble in his voice with a level of concentration that had him clenching his jaw and breaking out in a sweat, "Mike is in trouble. He needs an attorney. I am his attorney. I'm going."

"And I said you weren't."

Whispers of panic began stirring to life in him again, and it became a struggle to get the words out past his tight jaw. "You taught me, over and over again, that we protect our own at all costs. Has that changed?"

"Aligning ourselves with Mike Ross is the opposite of protecting our own."

"Damn it, Jessica, Mike _is_ our own. He has been a part of this firm since the day I hired him. Despite your best efforts, and Louis's, he has earned a place here, and it's long past time that you managed to wrap your head around that simple goddamned fact."

"I beg your pardon?"

He knew he'd probably crossed a line, but couldn’t spare the time or energy to care. "I'm going to find Mike and bring him home. That is not up for discussion. Instead of trying to stop me, why don't you do something helpful and put that brilliant legal mind of yours to use by coming up with a defense strategy?"

Either she had acceded to his arguments, or was speechless with shock at his defiance, but as he left his office both Jessica and Donna remained completely silent.

***

Friday night rush hour was in full swing when Harvey made it down to street level, and he decided it would be just as fast – if not faster – to walk the several blocks to the federal building. The air was chilly, but not uncomfortably so, and helped to clear his head. The thought of Mike – of his Dom – in handcuffs disturbed him with its utter wrongness. He couldn't dwell on that. There would be plenty of time later to work through his turbulent feelings.

By the time he emerged from the elevator on the sixth floor, having been directed there by the guard in the lobby, he was still breathing hard, but his mind had calmed. He approached the sixth floor guard with sure, confident steps and a grim expression.

"Harvey Specter, attorney for Michael Ross," he announced.

"Sorry, sir. You can't go in there."

"Oh, I very much beg to differ. Mr. Ross is entitled to legal representation, and if you try to claim that he has waived his right to counsel, I'm going to march back there, break the door down, and demand that he confirms that to me in person."

"Look," the guard began, rising to his feet, gearing up for a fight. Just then, a woman appeared in the hallway, thin, sharp-featured, and focused on Harvey like a malevolent laser beam.

"Well, look who showed up to the party," she said, eyes bright and voice dripping with contempt. "Harvey Specter. My name is Anita Gibbs. I have to hand it to you, you got here quicker than I expected. You must be awfully worried about what your boy might say. Afraid that he'll turn on you to save his own skin?"

Inside, Harvey recoiled at her use of "boy" to refer to Mike. It was an effort, but he kept quiet, only raising an expectant eyebrow and waiting for her next move.

"Fine," she finally spat out. "You can see him. His arraignment isn't until Monday morning, though. I'm afraid he's going to be our guest for the weekend."

Of course.   Harvey had known that, but had refused to acknowledge it to himself. "That was a real shitty trick, coming for him at six o'clock on a Friday." He didn't wait for her response, just brushed past her in his rush to get to Mike.

He found him behind the second door he flung open. Mike was pacing agitatedly, running a hand through his disordered hair. He froze when he saw Harvey, took in every inch of him, and expelled a lengthy sigh. "You came," he breathed, as if he'd doubted that Harvey would.

Harvey stepped into the room and closed the door carefully behind him. "Of course I came." He returned Mike's scrutiny. They'd already taken his tie, and his watch, and probably his wallet as well. Harvey wanted to go to him, fix his hair, brush off his lapels, get on his knees and pledge his fealty. He glanced up at the corners of the room, checking for cameras.

"No cameras this time," Mike assured him. "No two-way mirrors or recording devices. We're alone."

This information was all it took for Harvey's defenses to crumble. All of his fear, and despair and guilt came rushing back in at him, and he growled lowly at the effort of keeping it all inside himself.

Mike understood. "Come here," he murmured.

Harvey took three steps forward. His legs seemed to collapse and then he was kneeling in front of Mike, head bent. Mike's touch to his head was tentative at first, before both of his hands curved around Harvey's skull, offering comfort, expressing his gratitude, and accepting Harvey's submission.

They stayed that way for several minutes, neither moving. Mike spoke first. "We don't have much time."

Harvey sniffed, nodding his head. "I know. God, I'm sorry. When I heard what happened, I thought I'd lose my mind."

Mike extended a hand and helped him to his feet. "No. That's not going to happen. We both know you're stronger than that. Come on. Let's sit down and talk."

 

******

 

The worry Mike had for Harvey when he first caught sight of him in the interview room receded as they talked about the case, and how best to approach the charges leveled against Mike. A subtle shift occurred between them as Harvey resumed his former role, taking the lead and speaking with his usual confidence.

"We don't have to prove you're an attorney," he insisted again. "They have to prove that you're not."

Mike nodded. He knew Harvey was right, but could not banish the sick feeling in his gut, of worry and guilt. Gibbs had made it clear to him that she intended to go after Harvey, with the ultimate goal of taking down the entire firm. His instinct to protect Harvey no matter what, threatened to override rational thought. If he confessed and made a deal, he could keep them all safe, but the price for him would be prison. He would survive that, in some form or another, but would his relationship with Harvey survive the separation?

"Mike, I know that look. You're considering doing something rash. Whatever it is, I want you to put it out of your mind right now. It's early yet. We've only just begun to fight back. I believe in you, and I want you to tell me that you believe in me too."

Mike hesitated a few seconds too long, and saw the panic threatening to overtake Harvey. He reached across the table and grasped Harvey's wrist. "I absolutely believe in you. I'm going to follow your advice in this, but if it starts to look as if things are not going our way, I'll do anything necessary to protect you."

Harvey shook his head, immediately rejecting the idea. "No. This is my fault. I did this. I set this all in motion. If it comes to it, let me take the fall. Please." A brief hesitation, then, more quietly, "Please, sir."

"No. Non-negotiable." Harvey's expression remained mulishly stubborn. "Do I need to make it an order?"

Harvey's eyes drifted shut. "I don't think I could follow that order," he whispered.

Mike rose to his feet and paced restlessly around the room, searching for the best way to approach the situation. He came to a halt behind Harvey, rested his hands on his shoulders and leaned in to speak directly into his ear. "You say you believe in me, but do you trust me?"

Harvey shivered under his hands. "I … of course. It's the same thing."

"Is it?" Harvey didn't answer. "You had another panic attack."

Still no answer, unless you counted the way his breathing sped up and turned unsteady.

Mike grabbed Harvey's hair and gave it a sharp tug. "Answer me. And don't lie. I can see it all over you. Did you have a panic attack when you heard the news?"

Harvey hid his face behind one palm and nodded miserably. "It didn't last long, but yes. It was the shock."

"I'm sorry," Mike murmured. "I'm sorry you had to go through that without me." He bit his lip as he considered what he wanted to do next. "I should take you down right now."

"What?" Harvey laughed uncertainly as he spoke the word.

Mike let go of him and moved away so that he could see Harvey's expression. "Stand up and lean over the table."

Harvey's eyes were dark pools in his pale, shocked face. "Excuse me?"

"I said, stand up and lean over the table. Do it. Now."

"Mike. No. What about Gibbs?"

"We have time."

Harvey didn't move.

"This is for your own good, boy. You need this, and so do I. Show me you trust me, and do as I've asked."

With obvious reluctance, Harvey stood up and assumed the position Mike had demanded. His upper body rested on the table and his hands clutched the far edge, turning white at the knuckles. Mike took a moment to wonder if he was pushing Harvey too far. He'd learned to trust his instincts, though, and right now they were telling him that Harvey was dangerously close to cracking apart. He needed his Dom's hand to restore his equilibrium. Otherwise Harvey, his lawyer, would not be functioning at his best.

Mike hadn't been lying about needing this too.   Unlike Harvey, he wasn't in danger of a panic attack, but the reservoir of worry and nervous energy inside him was deep, and required an outlet. This seemed safer and infinitely more enjoyable than bloodying his knuckles on the wall.

"Unbuckle your belt, and unfasten your pants."

Harvey didn't hesitate this time, but fumbled clumsily as he followed Mike's instructions.

"Now pull everything down to your knees." Mike's mouth went dry at the sight of Harvey's naked bottom in front of him. He could have stood there and studied it for hours, would have loved to fuck him right there, just like that, but despite his earlier assurances, he knew he had to move this along. Being interrupted by Gibbs at this point was not a wrinkle his case needed. His heart beat quickly at the risk they were taking.

He stepped close enough to rest his hand on the small of Harvey's back. "Do you know why I'm doing this?"

Harvey breathed noisily for several seconds. "Because," he said in a quavering voice, "I need it. Please, sir. I do. I do need this." His whole body shuddered, and his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "But so do you, I think. If this helps you, then this is what I want. Use me."

More than satisfied with the response, Mike drew his arm back and landed the first, stinging blow. He felt Harvey's flinch, and waited as Harvey took one gasping breath, and then another, before the tension in his back eased.

Mike struck again, and again, not holding anything back. The sounds of palm striking ass echoed sharply inside the enclosed space. Mike counted to ten, and then shifted his weight, changed hands, and went to work on the other side. He repeated the pattern three times, until Harvey's ass was bright red, and Mike's hands were nearly numb.

Harvey had remained silent throughout the spanking. Now, as Mike stroked his bottom, loving the feel of the heat rising from his skin, Harvey moaned softly. Without warning, Mike pulled his cheeks apart and thrust the tip of his finger into Harvey’s puckered entrance, surprising a gasp out of him. He shoved deeper. “Does that hurt?” He’d observed Harvey’s wince, and knew the answer.

“Yes,” came the strained reply.

“Good.” He pumped his finger roughly in and out several times, causing Harvey to grunt and grasp the edge of the table more tightly. Removing his finger, he slapped and then pinched Harvey’s enflamed ass, until he was squirming and gritting his teeth. “Remember this if your emotions start to get away from you again. I may be stuck in here, but the feel of me will still be on you, and inside of you.”

Harvey nodded jerkily.

"All right. Good boy. Put your pants back on." He stepped away and watched while Harvey stood, pulled up briefs and slacks over an obvious bulge, and put his clothing back to rights. His hands and fingers moved with more sureness and grace than they had before, with no trembling, which he took as a good sign. "Now, what do you have to say to me, boy?"

Harvey licked his lips, dropped to his knees again and gazed up at Mike. "Thank you, sir."

Mike smiled down at him and touched his head. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Now I want you to go out there and tell Anita Gibbs that I've invoked my right to remain silent, and that I'd like to see what accommodations they have prepared for my weekend stay."

"Yes, sir." Harvey did not get up right away. "I hate that you have to spend even one night behind bars."

"I'll be fine. I promise."

Harvey's eyes fluttered shut, and he nodded once. "I know you will. And I will too. We'll figure this out."

Once again, Mike offered a hand and helped him to his feet. He wrapped his arms around Harvey, and kissed his temple. Harvey pulled back slightly so they could look one another in the eyes. Giving in to temptation, Mike leaned forward and claimed Harvey's mouth with his own.

The kiss started out soft, tentative and careful. Seconds into it, heat flared between them, sudden and bright. Mike clutched Harvey's arms and spun him around, slamming his back against the wall, angling his head and thrusting his tongue into his mouth, and his leg between his knees. He tasted blood, and couldn't have said for sure whose it was.

If it had gone on any longer, Mike might have been too lost to hear the light tap at the door, or the doorknob turn, and the door start to open. He wrenched his head back and leapt away from Harvey, leaning against the wall with a good foot of space between them. He was breathing hard, and knew that Harvey was too. Both of them stared at Anita Gibbs, who stood in the doorway, looking back and forth between them with a suspicious frown.

"Did I interrupt something?" she asked.

"Nope." Mike wiped his face of all emotion. "We're done here. If you have a cell waiting for me, we may as well get going, because I'm not saying anything else to you. Oh, and I hope you held dinner for me.   I had to skip lunch, and I have a powerful appetite." He caught an abrupt movement from Harvey out of the corner of his eye, but managed to keep his gaze on Gibbs.

"I'll send someone for you shortly. In the meantime, maybe I'll walk your attorney out."

"See you Monday morning at the arraignment, Harvey. Thanks for your help."

Harvey nodded once and followed Gibbs out the door. When he was alone, Mike slumped back, head against the wall, and eyes on the ceiling.

 _Shit._ That had been too close. He rubbed a hand over his face, finally admitting to himself how rattled he was by his arrest. He never should have put Harvey – or himself – in the position of being caught by Gibbs. He didn't give a fuck what she, or anyone else, might think of their relationship, but she would have found a way to use it against them, and to her advantage.

He did feel more settled and less panicked after his time with Harvey, so his reckless behavior had served a purpose at least. He would hold onto that feeling as long as he could, because until he walked out the front door of this place, he would need to keep a cool head.

***

“What are you looking at?”

Mike had been studying his cellmate’s face, comparing it to the photograph he’d seen on the wall in the hallway. When the attack came, he was already anticipating it. As the man came at him, he remained seated, held up his finger and said in a clear voice, “Ron Da’Mico. Stop.”

The charge halted, and a look of confusion replaced the man’s faux rage.

“That’s right,” Mike continued, “U.S. Marshal Da’Mico. I recognized you from your picture on the wall, even with the new beard. Nice choice, by the way. Don’t tell me, let me guess: Gibbs put you in here with me to scare me into confessing.”

Appearing chagrined, Da’Mico backed away, staring at Mike. “Right. That memory of yours. Well, she did warn me.” Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he sat on the bed across from Mike.

Mike shrugged and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, man. It was a good plan, except for … well ... me.”

“Fuck,” Da’Mico muttered and stretched out on his back, arms behind his head. “You smug college boys are the worst.”

Mike mirrored his actions, lying down on his own bed. “I hear you. Sometimes I can barely stand to be around myself.” He gave the other man a sideways glance. “So, what now? Are you stuck in here all night? I mean, since you don’t get to terrorize me, you might as well go home to your own bed. I’m just saying.”

Da’Mico appeared to be considering that. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way in a minute. Here’s something you might want to think about, since you’ll have plenty of time for that in the next couple of days. You can let this whole thing play out in trial, but I’ve seen Gibbs in action. She plays to win, and she plays hard. You may believe that your hotshot attorney can take her on, but I’ve seen her take down plenty of hotshot attorneys. It’s not going to end well for you. Make a deal.”

Mike pretended to think it over. “Nah. If it even comes to trial, which it probably won't, I’ll take my chances with Harvey, because he’s got a secret weapon.”

A snort of laughter from the other bed. “And what would that be?”

“Me.”

“The fraud? That should be good. Damn, I almost wish I could be there to watch the show.”

By this point, Da’Mico had lost his entertainment value, so Mike didn’t bother to reply to his last barb. He rolled over, facing the wall. Several minutes later, he heard the marshal summon the guard and leave the cell.

Really alone for the first time since his arrest, he finally gave in to fear and allowed all of the worst case scenarios to parade through his mind.

As doubts tormented him, the only thing of which he remained certain was that he would take no deals that included bringing further harm to firm. Above that even, his number one priority remained protecting Harvey at all costs, and keeping him safe.

 

******

 

Harvey spent the weekend gathering signed statements from friends and former colleagues of Mike. He drove up to Cambridge and tracked down Professor Gerard, and blithely threatened to destroy his career unless he swore that Mike had been in his class. In the end, Harvey wasn't confident what Gerard would say if Gibbs ever put him on the stand, but he did sign the letter with which Harvey presented him.

Monday morning, Harvey was ready, armed with both witness statements and a Motion to Dismiss. When Mike was led into the courtroom, rumpled but otherwise appearing fine, Harvey let out a breath that he felt like he'd been holding all weekend. Mike met his eyes, gave a firm nod, and then Harvey made his case for dismissal. Gibbs countered aggressively, using incredulity like a weapon. In the end, they did not get the dismissal, but Gibbs was forced to turn over a copy of the anonymous email which had set this all in motion.

"Gerard," said Mike as he studied the email on the ride to his apartment for a shower and change of clothes. He'd insisted on going to the office, and Harvey wanted him nearby badly enough that he hadn't put up much of an argument.

"No, not Gerard."

"It's from an anonymous Harvard account. It's got to be Gerard."

Harvey shook his head. "I spoke to him this weekend. I looked him in the eye and he insisted it wasn't him. He even signed a letter stating that you were his student."

Mike frowned. "What did you threaten him with to get that? No, never mind. Don't tell me." He began to gnaw on his bottom lip.

Harvey had the nearly overwhelming urge to soothe Mike's lip with his mouth and tongue, but was reluctant to make a move in front of Ray. Not that Ray would care, or would share whatever he witnessed with anyone else, but Harvey liked the clandestine nature of their relationship, and preferred to keep it that way for now.

"So who else from Harvard would have a reason to send that email?" mused Mike.

The realization hit them both at the same instant. "Sheila Sazs," said Harvey. "We need to talk to Louis."

***

Mike knew something about Sheila that Harvey didn't. He debated whether or not to share it. "I doubt that Louis can sway her, to be honest. I need to get up there and talk to her myself."

"No. Absolutely not. You'll lead Gibbs right to her if you do that. Louis will have to take this one."

"It has to be me."

"Damn it, Mike. Either I'm your attorney or I'm not."

Evidently, Harvey was going to fight him on this. Mike didn't want that, not now. In order to avoid that, it looked like he would have to confide in Harvey. Not in the car, though. They had arrived in front of his apartment, so Mike opened the car door. "Come upstairs with me. There's something I need to tell you."

Inside, Mike went straight to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water, which he downed in one long, continuous swallow. He got out the coffee and a filter, but Harvey took them from him and gently pushed him away from the counter.

"I'll make the coffee. You go take your shower."

Mike nodded gratefully. He stank of jail, and it was making him queasy. He was mightily tempted to invite Harvey to join him in the shower, but they didn't have time for that right now.

He showered and shaved and dressed on his own, and walked back into the kitchen, holding his jacket under one arm, and tightening the knot in his tie. His coffee mug waited for him on the counter, and he took several careful sips. "Shit. I missed coffee."

Harvey smiled and moved up on him, holding his hips. "And I missed you. Weekends just aren't the same without your collar around my neck."

Mike rubbed against him before regretfully pulling away. "We'll make time for that later. I promise. Right now I need to explain about Sheila."

"Ah, fuck, Mike. If you tell me that you and she used to have a thing … "

Mike laughed at the thought of that. "No. Not even close. Well, not exactly." He took another sip of coffee, and motioned for Harvey to follow him to the living room. Mike sat on the couch, and was both surprised and pleased when Harvey knelt on the floor next to him. He petted Harvey's head gently, careful not to disorder his hair.

"After you hired me," he began, "you sent me up to Harvard to reconnoiter. Do you remember that?"

"Of course." Harvey laid his head on Mike's knee, and hummed softly when Mike began rubbing the back of his neck. Mike rubbed harder, working his fingertips into the knotted muscles he found.

"While I was there, I visited a club in Boston which is loosely affiliated with the one I belong to in Manhattan."

Harvey's eyes drifted shut. "How could you even afford your membership back then?"

Mike felt the press of time, and wanted to get on the road sooner rather than later, but if Harvey knew the whole story, he might be less inclined to argue with Mike's plan of action. "I couldn't afford it before you hired me. I'd been learning on my own, and decided I needed formal training. The first step was to get someone to take me on as their sub."

Keeping his head on Mike's knee, Harvey tilted his head so he could see Mike's face. "You were a sub?"

"For about a year. That's how the club structures their training. If you know what it's like being a sub, it makes you a better Dom. Or so the theory goes. Anyway, when I was in Boston, I wanted to expand my horizons and see what it was like scening with a different Dom. I presented myself as a sub, which I was, and they introduced me to a Domme who was looking for someone to play with on that particular night." He put extra pressure on Harvey's neck, holding him in place. "Three guesses as to who that Domme turned out to be."

Harvey struggled briefly against Mike's restraining hand, before settling back down. "You're telling me Sheila Sazs once spanked your ass?"

Mike smiled in remembrance. "Well, no. Not precisely. Her special skill is with the single tail. I know what you're going to ask next, and the answer is no. There was no sex involved. No penetration of any sort. We spent a pleasurable but intense hour together, and everyone went home happy."

Harvey stroked Mike's knee absently as he took some time to absorb this information. He went suddenly still, which told Mike that he had connected the dots. "So Sheila … and Louis?"

"Don't know. Don't care. None of our business."

"I guess not. But how does any of this help you to change her mind?"

Mike smile grimly. "You let me worry about that." He'd left out one piece of the story, but that would remain between Sheila and him – unless she refused to cooperate.

"How are we going to get up there without Gibbs knowing?"

Mike shook his head. " _We_ are not going anywhere. I'm going alone. I need you to stay here. Make your presence known at work, and keep working on my defense, in case my visit doesn't have the desired result."

Harvey was quiet for a minute, and then nodded his assent, which was a relief to Mike. He really hadn't been looking forward to arguing with his boy, not after the weekend he'd just had. "Ray will drive you," said Harvey.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. His car is too easy to recognize. The plate number is likely already in Gibbs’s file on us."

"Then take something from my car club. Ray is certified in Escape and Evade. Meet him at my club in about an hour. He'll get you out of the city with no one on your tail. When you get to Boston, buy him a nice lunch. Anything Italian will make him a happy man. Oh, and let him choose the music. You won't regret it."

"Thank you.” Mike petted and petted Harvey’s head, marveling at how lucky he was to have him in his life. “Is there anything you need from me before I go?"

Harvey's hand crept up Mike's thigh to brush against his crotch. "This. Please?"

Mike grabbed Harvey's wrist and pushed his hand closer. "Is that so?" he breathed. "What did you have in mind?"

"Let me suck you off. We'll both feel better."

Mike knew he should say no. He needed to get moving, and get up to Harvard to confront Sheila. He hesitated, deliberating. When Harvey licked his lips, Mike's good intentions flew out the window. Grabbing Harvey's chin, he leaned over to kiss him, quick and tender, and feigned reluctance. "Hm. Ask nicely, and maybe I'll say yes."

Harvey lifted his head and spoke solemnly. "Please, sir. Let me. I'll make it so good for you."

 _Fuck, yes, he wanted it._ "You have my permission. Unzip me."

He spread knees wide apart and let Harvey take care of unfastening the front of his slacks and pulling his cock out. When his beautiful mouth stretched wide and took Mike inside, he curved his hands around the back of Harvey's head, closed his eyes, and let everything fade away except the feel of his boy pleasuring him. Suckling, tonguing, lowering his head and applying suction, Harvey knew exactly what pleased him, and what would drive him over the edge quickly.

Too quickly.

Mike tugged on his hair, just hard enough to get his attention. "Slow down, boy. That's it. That's perfect."

Long, elegant fingers worked his pants lower so that Harvey could tug and stroke his balls. He dug his own fingers into Harvey's scalp and groaned at the hot pleasure building inside of him. He rode the edge of orgasm for long minutes, rocking his hips to gently fuck Harvey's face, loving the way he didn't flinch or protest when Mike’s cock bumped the back of his throat.

Too soon, his need spiraled, growing too urgent to hold back. He forced himself to stillness. "Finish me, boy," he rasped, and let Harvey do all the work, bobbing his head, swallowing him to the root, fingering his entrance. "Shit," he grunted. "F-u-u-u-c-k.”

Harvey eased partway off, did something impossible and slinky with his tongue, and Mike lost it. Head thrown back, strangled curses spilled over his lips, while his hips stuttered as he pumped into Harvey’s mouth. Harvey’s throat convulsed around him as he swallowed and swallowed.

Mike slumped back. Harvey rested his head on Mike’s leg, spent cock still held in his gently suckling mouth. “Enough,” said Mike in a low voice gone hoarse. He tangled his fingers in Harvey’s hair, noticing for the first how he had messed it up, and lazily set about trying to smooth it back into place. “Now you.”

Harvey raised his head, letting Mike’s cock fall from between wet lips, and gave him a quizzical look.

“Get yourself off,” Mike clarified. “Over there, where I can watch you.” He pointed to a spot a few feet away.

Harvey crawled the short distance and sat back on his heels, eyes on Mike.

“Unzip.”

Harvey lowered his zipper, fished out his cock, and waited.

“Go on.”

Closing his eyes, Harvey began a slow, steady stroking, curled palm smoothing up and down the rigid curve of his cock. Mike studied him, savoring the view, appreciating anew the perfect planes of his face, the arc of his mouth, the way his jaw tensed and worked. He was so beautiful in his submission, so elegant in suit and tie. A powerful man in his power suit, thoroughly owned by Mike in that moment.

Another time, Mike might have ordered him to come all over his suit, or into his underwear, and send him out into the world like that, dirty and debauched and stinking of sex. Not today. He needed Harvey in all of his heartbreakingly beautiful perfection. Mike stood up. Harvey heard, and opened his eyes, hand pausing.

“Keep going,” Mike told him. “I’ll be right back.” He only went as far as the bathroom, and came back with a towel, which he handed down to Harvey. “For your suit,” he explained unnecessarily. Harvey was already arranging the towel over his thighs. His hand began moving again.

Instead of sitting back down, Mike prowled around Harvey, treating himself to views of him from all angles. Harvey’s hand sped up and his head tipped back, eyes closed once more as he worked himself towards completion. Mike hunkered down behind him, resting his chin on Harvey’s shoulder. He flipped Harvey’s tie up and back, out of the way.

Although it had only been a couple of days, he had missed this closeness, this warmth, the heat rising off of Harvey’s body, carrying scents of his arousal, his crisp, clean shirt, and his subtle, spicy aftershave. Mike ran his hands over his chest, locating his nipples, which he rubbed, and then pinched as they hardened and rose into nubs.

“Let go,” he whispered, and held Harvey as he arched his back and cried out, shuddering and shaking as he came. Mike wrapped the towel around his cock, catching his cum, and then wadded it up and tossed it in the direction of the bathroom. With a hand on Harvey’s jaw, he turned his head partway so he could kiss him, shivering as he caught the taste of himself on his tongue.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Thank you. I’m going to have that image of you on replay in my head all the way up to Boston.”

“You won’t change your mind about letting me go with you?”

Mike’s hand tightened on his jaw and he plunged his tongue back into Harvey’s mouth, not stopping the hard, brutal, tooth-jarring kiss until his head grew light. He pulled away, gave Harvey’s earlobe a sharp bite, and then surged to his feet. “No.”

Harvey sighed. “Yeah. I figured.” Mike helped him up. “You’ll be back tonight?”

“Yes.”

There followed an expectant pause. They’d been spending Wednesday and Saturday nights together on a regular basis for several weeks. Mike wouldn’t have minded more, but had been reluctant to push Harvey too fast. Was Harvey hinting at something? Mike waited for him to ask for whatever it was he wanted, but he remained stubbornly silent.

Mike retrieved his jacket from the kitchen and put it on. “You’ll have Ray meet me at the car club?”

“Yes, as soon as he drops me off. Think you can get there without being followed?”

Mike spread his hands and grinned. “Me? Are you forgetting how we met? I’m an old hand at evading the law.”

At the look on Harvey’s face, Mike regretted bringing it up. “Except that they finally caught up with you,” he said, jaw twitching.

“That’s what they think. I’ve got a few tricks left.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Heavy interstate traffic lengthened the drive, and Mike and Ray didn't make it to Boston until nearly dinner time. Mike had already consulted Yelp to locate a nice Italian restaurant, and they headed there first. He was hungry, and judging by the amount of spaghetti alla puttanesca and ribeye steak Ray put away, he was as well.

"There's a place I need to visit on my own," Mike told him. "Can you amuse yourself for a couple of hours? I'd just as soon head back tonight afterwards, if you're up for the drive. Unfortunately, we can't risk leaving a paper trail by checking into a hotel. At least traffic should be better by then."

"Sure. I'll go catch a movie. No worries. I’ll text you with the theater and time it gets out." He held up his new phone, identical to Mike’s. In an excess of caution, Mike had paid cash for two burner phones before they left Manhattan.

Mike finished his salad and left money with Ray for dinner and the movie. He went outside to get a cab, and gave the driver Sheila Sazs's address. She lived in a fashionable Beacon Hill neighborhood, on a narrow, winding street lined with beautifully restored brick row houses and brick sidewalks. He'd had hours to contemplate how to approach her, and still wasn't certain of his choice. He'd try plan A, he decided, and if that didn't work, switch to plan B.

He rang the doorbell, and after half a minute heard light footsteps approach. A pause, probably to check the peephole. The door opened a crack.

"You can't be here," declared Sheila Sazs in her distinctive, high-pitched nasally voice.

"But I am here. We need to talk."

"Mr. Ross – "

"Call me Mike. Or, if you prefer, call me what you did five years ago: 'naughty boy'."

He couldn't see her clearly, but heard her breath catch. Tense seconds ticked by. The door opened all the way, revealing her in a slim dark skirt and crisp white shirt unbuttoned one button too far to pass for strictly business attire. "Come in." Her lips were crimped in obvious distaste.

The entryway floor was done in intricate patterns of red brick, unrelieved by carpeting. Mike knelt in front of her, hoping for the sake of his knees that he wouldn't be there long.

"What the hell are you playing at?" she demanded.

"I'm not playing, Mistress. Not like we did that night five years ago."

"You have got to be joking. Whatever you think you know about me, it's not going to get me to recant. You sullied the name of Harvard, and I won't have it."

"I don't 'think' I know anything. You're a founding member of an exclusive club here in Boston. While I was at Harvard, I visited that club, and we scened together. Your skill with the single tail was … pedestrian, but adequate."

"You insolent little brat. I ought to … Oh, no, no, no." She walked around him in a slow circle. "I see your play. You want to provoke me with this fake little act of yours. Well, listen carefully, _boy_. I'm not ashamed of my private pastime. It's nobody's business but mine. I have tenure. If your intention is to launch some kind of misguided smear campaign, you'd better think again. You never went to Harvard, and I'll just bet you've never been inside that club either."

Mike rose to his feet.   "No? I suppose I should feel insulted that you don’t remember me. My back was to you most of the time, and you kept our private room pretty dark. I could describe the oval stage downstairs, or the orgy mural on the back wall, or tell you the number of rooms upstairs – eight – or the color of the leather bustier you wore that night – red – but a good investigator might have dug up any of that information for me.

“Maybe it would help convince you if I describe how you had me strip naked and grab my ankles while you used your flogger on me. Or how you moved me to the wall and chained first one wrist and then the other, ordered me to kiss your whip, and yell out, 'thank you, Mistress, may I have another,' with each lash." He gave her a condescending smile. "By the way, kind of trite, don't you think?"

Her expression grew more and more sour as he spoke. "Get out," she managed in a strangled voice.

"But all of that? What we did together that night? None of that matters. That's not why I'm here. I'm here because I'm curious. Tenured or not, how do you think the Board of Regents would feel about a Dean of Admissions who was in the habit of recruiting new submissives from the student body at Harvard?"

"That's not – " she spluttered. "How dare you?"

He stepped closer, taking advantage of their height difference to glower down at her. "How dare I what? I believe the pertinent question is, how dare you? You sent an email – an _anonymous_ email – accusing me of fraud. You dared to fuck with my life. Recant your accusation, or prepare to have your life fucked with, twice as hard, with no mercy."

He saw the quick flare of fear in her eyes, before she turned away, presenting him with her back and pacing across the room. "How am I supposed to recant? I can't unring that bell."

"Maybe not," he allowed, "but as the Dean of Admissions, you can vouch for me. Write a letter – not anonymously, but under your own name – and swear that I both attended and graduated from Harvard. If you do that, I won't say anything to the Board about your personal recruiting practices."

She turned to face him from across the entryway, arms crossed over her chest and eyes narrowed. "I honestly don't understand how you can live with yourself. You have to know that you've put your entire firm in jeopardy with your fraud. You've shit on them, just like you shit on Harvard, and just like you now want to shit on me. Tell me something, are you proud of yourself? Do you feel even a drop of remorse for your actions?"

He forced himself not to react to her words, although it wasn't easy. She had struck home, with painful, pinpoint accuracy. Of course he felt guilt for the position he'd put the firm in, and especially for the potential danger to Harvey. That didn't mean he'd ever admit it to her. He lifted his chin and looked her in the eyes. "I've been a good attorney. I've helped people." It sounded lame, even to his own ears.

"All for the greater good, eh? Nice rationalization." She continued to glare at him, mouth working as if pondering hard what she should do. "Fine. You've stumbled onto some effective leverage; I'll give you that. I will agree to lie and perjure myself for you, because I truly believe I'm doing good work here. See, I can rationalize too. But you're not getting off scot-free. I have two conditions."

He'd already guessed one, but had no idea what the second might be. He looked at her expectantly.

"First, you resign immediately, and never practice law again."

Mike let out a careful breath. This was risky. It might look suspicious if he quit so soon after the charges were leveled against him. He'd already come to terms with the fact that he would have to walk away in the near future. If Sheila came through with her letter, though, he'd become bullet-proof. He nodded his assent. "Agreed. What is the second condition?"

The smile she gave him in response was decidedly wicked. "You deserve to be punished, and you know it. You've been a very, very bad boy. So naughty." She actually licked her lips as she considered him, gaze traveling up and down his body.

Mike gaped at her. "You're saying … "

"One hour in my dungeon. Tonight. Right now."

He went cold all over. "That's … completely unethical."

"Sort of like pretending to be a lawyer? Don't worry, boy, I'm not looking to do any permanent damage. I won't even use my single tail, if that's what has you worried. It'll just be you, me, and my favorite paddle. You'll survive just fine, although sitting might be a problem for the immediate future. Those are my terms. Take them, or risk jail time."

Mike swiped his hand across his mouth. He hadn't submitted to anyone for years. The scene with Sheila had been one of his last as a sub. As much as he hated to admit it, she was correct. He did deserve to be punished. He breathed out slowly, striving to release his tension. "This stays between the two of us. And I want that letter from you before I step one foot into your dungeon."

She tilted her head to one side. "Agreed. Wait here."

 

******

 

When Mike set out for Boston that morning, he'd never guessed that he would wind up stretched naked over Sheila Sazs's spanking bench, counting out the strikes of her leather paddle against his tender, throbbing ass. By now, he'd been called a "dirty, naughty boy" so many times that he had lost count. He hadn't lost count of the hits he'd taken. He couldn’t afford to, or Sheila had promised to start again from the beginning.

"Forty-two," he grunted. _Jesus_ , he was going to hurt tomorrow.

"Tell me you're sorry," ordered Sheila.

This was new. He blinked rapidly, wishing his hands were free so that he could wipe some of the sweat from his face. As he opened his mouth to respond, Sheila swung again, catching him in an especially sensitive spot. "Ah! Fu – forty-three."

"Tell me you're sorry, boy."

"I'm sorry," he muttered."

"I didn't quite hear you." She spanked him again.

"Forty-four." He licked his dry lips. "I'm sorry, Mistress."

"You’re a bad boy. Say it."

"Forty-five. I-I’m a bad boy."

“You’re goddamned right, you are.” She fired off ten rapid strikes in a row, putting all her strength into them, not giving him a chance to speak or recover in between hits. When she was finished, she flung her paddle against the far wall. Silence filled the room for several seconds, except for both of their labored breathing.

"Fifty-five," Mike whispered.

He couldn't see her behind him, and couldn't hear her moving. He waited, growing increasingly anxious. "Mistress?"

She let out a frustrated sounding breath and moved closer to unbuckle his restraints. "Get down and kneel."

Relieved that it was over, he unfolded himself from the sweat-slick leather and lowered to his knees. Sheila frowned down at him. She turned halfway away, as if she couldn't bear to look at him any longer.

"Damn it," she bit out. "You were right. That was unethical. I never should have coerced you into scening with me. And I never should have hit you when I was so fucking angry."

He didn't know how to respond, so remained quiet.

She waved a hand in his direction. "Get up. Get dressed. Get out of my house. I'll keep my part of this unholy bargain, but my most fervent wish is that I never lay eyes on you again, for as long as I live."

Mike felt the same way, but kept quiet as he pulled his clothes on and made his escape.

 

******

 

“Distracted” was too tame a word for the way Harvey felt all day with Mike up in Boston. He still had clients and cases that needed his attention, but time and time again he found his thoughts wandering north. He couldn’t even call Mike, because he’d left his cell phone with Harvey, to avoid the possibility of being tracked via GPS.

At six o’clock, he gave up pretending to work, and took a cab home. He fixed himself a sandwich, chewing and swallowing without tasting, and then settled in with a bottle of single malt to get good and drunk. He doubted that Mike would approve of this form of stress relief, but whispers of panic had dogged him all day, and this would be the quickest way of putting them to sleep. The quickest way, that was to say, with Mike out of town.

He dozed off around eight, and woke up near midnight to drag himself to his bedroom, shed his clothes, and drop face down onto the bed. At two a.m., his phone rang out in the living room. By the time he clawed his way out of sleep and staggered out to the living room, the phone had gone silent again. A quick check of the screen showed an unfamiliar number, which he assumed was Mike’s burner phone. Before he could hit dial, he received a text message from the same number.

_“Success. Ray is sleeping in this morning. Meet me at work by seven. My office.”_

Seconds later, a second text arrived.

_“I miss you.”_

Harvey stared down at the screen, throat working. That was as close to a declaration as either of them had ever come. He missed Mike, too. He might have waited for him at Mike’s apartment, but that would have been a presumption, and an admission of something he wasn’t ready to admit, which was how much he needed his Dom.

His index finger hovered over the phone. In the end, he didn’t reply. Let Mike believe he had slept through the texts. There would be plenty of time now to talk about and explore whatever feelings they had for one another. Mike was safe. Things could continue as they had been before his arrest.

More relaxed now, Harvey easily fell back to sleep.

 

******

 

Harvey stopped for coffee and bagels on his way in. He found Mike in his office, standing behind his desk. Mike, he noted, wore his nicest suit, his most formal tie, and his most expensive watch. Harvey’s mouth went dry at the sight of him. If they had been somewhere more private, he would have dropped to his knees without hesitation and licked Mike’s immaculately shined shoes. As it was, he felt a slow, hot curl of pure _want_ move low in his belly.

“I brought breakfast,” he managed in a nearly normal voice.

“Thanks, Harvey. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I figured a celebration was in order.”

Mike didn’t smile in return. His mouth was tucked in at the corners, a sure sign of his displeasure. “Sit down.”

On guard now, Harvey set the food and drink on Mike’s desk and lowered himself slowly into one of the guest chairs. Mike remained standing. Harvey shifted his gaze to the desk, which was when he noticed something wrong. No laptop was resting on the surface, which was completely bare of papers. A banker’s box sat on the floor behind the desk, half filled with Mike’s personal belongings.

Understanding hit like a punch to the gut. “Mike. No.”

A long, drawn out sigh from Mike. “It was the only way. I don’t want any arguments about this. Sheila gave me this.” He reached into his inner coat pocket and withdrew an envelope. “My literal get out of jail free card. She only agreed to it on the condition that I resign and cease practicing law.”

“No.” Harvey shook his head. This couldn’t be happening. “No. We can fight this. You have her letter. No one will believe anything she says if she changes her mind. We need to dig up some dirt on her. Or get her out of the country. I’ll get Vanessa working on it right – ”

“Stop,” ordered Mike in his toppiest voice. “I said no. I gave her my word, and I intend to keep it.” His gaze softened as he stared down at Harvey. “It’s over. I have to do this. Accept it, or you’ll only make it more difficult.”

With an effort, Harvey swallowed all of the arguments he still yearned to make. Logically, he knew Mike was right. The accusation against him, even if Sheila’s letter contradicted it, had put him on the federal prosecutor’s radar. Walking away now made perfect sense. That didn’t make the idea any less painful.

“Harvey? Tell me you understand.”

Harvey remained stubbornly silent. With slow, deliberate steps, Mike walked to the door and shut it, before returning to stand behind Harvey.

“Do not defy me on this, boy.” Mike placed his hand on the nape of Harvey’s neck, tightening his fingers to just this side of painful. He leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Answer me, boy. Tell me you understand.”

Harvey’s eye’s fluttered shut. He hated everything about this, but he couldn’t bring himself to defy his Dom. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I understand.” He opened his eyes and stared forlornly down at Mike’s bare desktop. “It’s just … I’m going to miss you so fucking much.”

Mike’s hand loosened. He gave him a reassuring squeeze and moved back around to the front of the desk. He seemed to be moving more stiffly than normal, but Harvey put that down to being cooped up inside a car for over ten hours yesterday. On closer examination, Mike also appeared defeated and sad, and Harvey felt guilty for thinking only about how Mike’s leaving would affect him.

“Look, Mike, I’m sorry it came to this. I know how much you loved being an attorney. You proved yourself, in every way. There’s something waiting out there for you that will challenge you just as much. You’ll figure it out.”

Mike’s smile was obviously forced. He even seemed to be having difficulty meeting Harvey’s eyes now. “I’m sure you’re right, but I’m going to need a little time. I need to get my equilibrium back.”

“It goes without saying, but whatever I can do to help, just say the word. And I do mean anything.”

Mike nodded. “I know. Thanks.” He chewed on his lip for a few seconds, reminding Harvey of the awkward kid he’d been all those years ago. “I think … I think we should skip Wednesday night.”

Harvey’s heart sank further upon hearing this, but he only nodded, face impassive. “Whatever you think is best.”

“I just need a few days to get my head on straight. Let’s say Friday night for sure. If you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.”

“We didn’t make it to the club last Friday. I’ll book us a room again. Would you like that?”

“Yeah.” Right now, the end of the week seemed a million miles away.

“And …” Mike lifted a sheet of paper off of the printer on the credenza behind him. “If you could give this to Jessica for me, I’d appreciate it.” He set it on the desk, signed it with a flourish, folded it in thirds, and handed it to Harvey. “My letter of resignation.”

Harvey took the letter without comment. He didn’t blame Mike for wanting to avoid Jessica. Their relationship had been a difficult one from the start.

“You’ll handle Gibbs for me?” Mike asked.

Harvey nodded, and took Sheila Sazs’s letter from Mike. “You need any help with that?” He gestured toward the box of Mike’s things.

“Nope. I’ve got it.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and shifted his feet. “This is it then. I’ll see Friday.”

Harvey stood up to leave, hating everything about what was happening. “It was a privilege working with you.”

One side of Mike’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Cue ‘Nearer my God to Thee?’”

Harvey laughed. “We’re not going down with the ship. And the ship is not going down.”

“No, I suppose not.” Mike stepped out from behind the desk and stuck out his hand. “Thanks for everything.”

Harvey ignored Mike’s hand and opened his arms wide. He saw Mike’s surprise, and his hesitation, but he stepped in for the hug, wrapping his arms around Harvey. Harvey held on tight, indulging himself for a few seconds by resting his head on Mike’s shoulder. He felt Mike’s lips pressed to the side of his head. Growing greedy, Harvey slid one of his hands lower, to cup Mike’s ass.

Mike stiffened and jerked away, breaking free of the hug, at the same time letting out a low hiss. Harvey peered at him closely. Mike’s face had gone tight with what looked like pain. It only lasted an instant before he smoothed his features.

“So,” said Mike, “Friday night.”

“What the hell was that?”

“What was what?” Mike paced away, squatting down next to the box of his belongings.

And there it was again: a momentary grimace of pain.

“What happened in Boston?”

Mike shot an annoyed glance in Harvey’s direction, not meeting his eyes. “I already told you. I went to see Sheila Sazs. She agreed to vouch for me. I came home. The end.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot. You’ve injured yourself – or been injured. I’ll ask you one more time: what happened in Boston?”

“Nothing.” Mike straightened up, and groaned. “Okay, look, I did what I had to do. That’s all you need to know.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Harvey, just let it go.”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed as a suspicion began to form. Mike’s stiff movements and micro expressions could have been a reflection of Harvey’s own after a night of hard play. “I’ll let it go if you take a seat in your chair right now and tell me again that nothing happened.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Harvey compressed his lips and considered how to proceed. Mike was his Dom, and maybe Harvey wasn’t entitled to know every move or decision he made. On the other hand, Harvey would always feel protective where Mike was concerned. And if they couldn’t be honest with one another, what was the point of any of this?

_Press until it hurts._ Well, that had been Mike’s role recently, but Harvey still remembered how it was done.

“You know what I think?” Harvey drew himself up to his full height and stepped into Mike’s space, chest to chest. “I think your deal with Sheila Sazs involved more than this letter of resignation.” He tapped the letter once against Mike’s chest. “Because I recognize the way you’re moving right now. I know that wince, and that held back groan of discomfort, and the way you’re avoiding that chair as if your life depended on it.” He gave Mike a chance to respond, but he only kept his gaze stubbornly somewhere to the right of Harvey. “You scened with Sheila. Didn’t you?”

“Harvey …” Mike sounded exasperated now. His shoulders slumped and he carefully stepped back, turning to look out his window. “She wanted to punish me. I deserved it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Punish you? Punish you how?”

“Just let it be.” Several beats of silence. “I’m okay. It wasn’t that bad. I’m just … a little rattled.” He let out a harsh laugh. “I’ll see you Friday. I’ll feel fine by then, I promise.”

Hearing his guess confirmed left Harvey feeling uneasy. He didn’t want to leave things this way, but Mike had clearly dismissed him. He swallowed painfully. “All right. Call me if you need anything. Please?”

“I will.” Mike finally turned to face him. His smile looked almost normal. “Goodbye Harvey.”

“For now.”

Mike nodded, eyes suspiciously bright. “Right. For now.”

Harvey wanted to grab him for another hug, but Mike’s body language proclaimed definitively, _do not touch me_ , so instead Harvey raised the two letters in mock salute and went to find Jessica.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking one more long chapter will finish this story up, or two shorter ones if I end up splitting it up. Thanks for your patience for the long wait. I'm pretty sure the next chapter won't be so long in coming. (Fingers crossed.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've split the final chapter into two parts, mainly because the writing is going soooo slowly. Endings are the worst, y'all. A relatively smut free chapter here, but that will be remedied in the final chapter.

When the cab dropped Mike off in front of his building, it was almost more than he could manage to haul his box of personal belongings up the stairs and into the lobby.He’d been here before, unemployed, doing the job loss walk of shame, although he hadn’t felt anywhere near this tired, or this down, after his ouster by Sidwell.He rode the elevator up to his apartment, went inside, and set the box by the front door.He wasn’t certain now why it had seemed so important earlier to put on his best suit and tie, and to look like a successful attorney one more time, even if it was only for as long as it took to say goodbye.

As he stripped dispiritedly down to his briefs, it was tempting to drop his clothes to the floor and forget about them.He forced himself to hang up the suit, smooth out the wrinkles, and carry everything else to the hamper.With this one task accomplished, the rest of the day stretched out in front of him, long and empty.

The rest of his life stretched out in front of him.

He sat on the couch, and then lay on his side, arranging himself into something close to the fetal position.He flipped dispiritedly through the daytime television lineup, trying but failing to numb his mind to the memories that wouldn’t leave him alone.Each time he began to relax, his mind went unfailingly back to last night, to an image of himself stretched over Sheila’s spanking bench, making himself vulnerable in a way he’d never thought to again, all to avoid the real punishment he deserved for his undeniable crime.

The more he obsessed about it, the lower he dropped.What was he worth anymore, as a man, as a Dom, as a person?Nothing.

_ Nothing nothing nothing. _

He should get up, eat something, maybe go outside and interact with the world.He was just so fucking tired, in ways that went beyond simple lack of sleep.His ass ached.His whole body hurt.He had no future.He was a fuckup of epic proportions.

He cast an apathetic eye at the refrigerator.He could make himself an omelet, or a smoothie, or grab a few stalks of celery and munch on those, but his stomach seemed to shrivel at the thought of sending food its way.Eventually, he fell into an uneasy sleep, and drifted in and out for most of the rest of the day.When he woke up, cable news was on the television, parading experts and pundits to discuss the political outrages of the day.He turned if off and stared at his ceiling, trying to remember the last time he had remained still for this long, and done nothing – not including sleep, of course.

It felt like he’d been moving and struggling and running to keep ahead of his own disasters since even before Harvey hired him.What good had any of that effort done him?In the end, he’d ended up here, a pathetic failure.A voice inside his head whispered that he deserved this, and worse.

By the time darkness began to fall outside, Mike felt so weighted with hopelessness that it was a monumental effort to simply peel himself off the sofa to stumble to the kitchen.He had no appetite, but needed to eat something.When he stood up, he felt light-headed, as if he was crashing after a few days of too many energy drinks, and too little sleep, and he was on the verge of tears.That realization finally clued him in that what was happening was more than garden variety fatigue and sadness.

He’d experienced sub drop before, and had managed without aftercare in those chaotic days before his formal training began.This, though, was far worse than he’d experienced back then, perhaps because it came at the worst possible time.

Once he had pinpointed the problem, he set about trying to solve it.Aftercare from his Domme was out of the question, since she was currently several hours away, wasn't really his Domme, and despised him in any case.For long, agonizing minutes, he toyed with the idea of hunting down some pot, or perhaps something stronger, and self-medicating for a day or two or five, but convinced himself that would be a bad idea.He'd resorted to that in the past, but he was done with that part of his life, and he didn't intend to go back.

Although the temptation was strong to fall back onto the sofa and wallow in his emotions until he rode them out, he summoned the energy to take a shower, and then once again dressed in a suit and tie and expensive watch.Donning this armor made him feel marginally better, enough so that he could call for a cab and take it to the one place (outside of Pearson, Specter and Litt), where he felt comfortable.

It was early for him to be at the club.Only a few members had arrived, most of them congregating around the bar.Mike did the same, although he chose the far corner, separating himself from everyone else.He gingerly maneuvered himself onto a stool as the bartender, David, left off stacking glasses to saunter over.

"Good evening, sir."

"Is the kitchen open?" asked Mike.

David nodded.

"Great.Could I get a sandwich?I don't … turkey club, I guess."

"You got it.What about a drink?"

"A beer.I don’t care what kind.Surprise me."

While he waited for his beer to arrive, he shifted on the stool, trying and failing to get comfortable.Sheila had really done a number on his ass.He attempted to dredge up some residual anger or resentment over her behavior, but had to admit that he could hardly blame her.In her place, if someone had come at him with threats like that, he might have reacted the same way.

A bottle of beer clunked down on the counter in front of him, and he gulped down half of it.No, he decided, he knew better than to strike someone in anger, and so, he assumed, did Sheila Sazs.If she possessed any integrity, he suspected she was feeling her own brand of remorse today.

“You want another one?” asked David.

Mike had hardly been aware of finishing his first beer.“Maybe something stronger.”He thought for a second.“Macallan 18.”He didn’t usually go for whiskey, but it seemed appropriate tonight.

“Yes, sir.”

A large form slid onto the stool beside him.Mike shot the man a quick side eye, and nearly groaned out loud at the sight of Jake, one of the club’s owner’s.Mike liked him well enough, but wasn’t in the mood to deal with his six foot five inches of brawny perfection and uncompromising attitude.If the Universe was conspiring to make him feel inadequate, then well done, Universe.

“I don’t remember ever seeing you in here this early,” Jake rumbled, “much less on a school night.”He grinned through his neatly trimmed beard, showing straight, white teeth.

“I got some unexpected time off.”Mike’s drink arrived, and he sipped too quickly, causing him to wince and cough.

Jake raised one eyebrow, but refrained from comment.He was drinking ice water, Mike noted.

“Are you looking for a sub tonight?” asked Jake.“There are one or two I might recommend.”

“Ah, no.I’m good.”

“Hm.That’s right.I’ve see you in here a few times with that beautiful sub. Henry?”

“Harvey.”

“Right.Are you still … “

“Yes.We are still.”Probably.Harvey might be having second thoughts after what he'd learned about Mike's trip to Boston.

Mike shifted on his stool, having momentarily forgotten the sorry state of his ass.He tried to muffle his groan, but of course Jake noticed.His gaze grew speculative.

"I didn't realize you were a switch."

Mike lifted his glass and let scotch glide over his tongue and down his throat."I'm not," he rasped.

"Really?Then what's with all the squirming?Who do you think you're talking to?I know the signs of a well-spanked ass when I see one."

"It's nothing."Mike tucked his mouth down into a frown, trying to signal his desire to be left on his own.Jake, predictably, did not take the hint.

"If you're looking for more of the same," said Jake, "I can check my schedule and pencil you in."

"I'm not," Mike repeated.He let out a long sigh."It was a one-time thing, and it's … complicated."

"Complicated, eh?That usually makes for a good story.Care to share?"

He didn't, not really, but something about Jake compelled him to keep talking.The Dom was strong in this one, that was for certain.As Mike related the events of the previous night, he glossed over his own particular crime, allowing that to remain vague, but told Jake about Sheila, and their bargain, and the hour he'd spent in her dungeon.Unburdening himself felt good.

"I'm fine," concluded Mike, probably trying to convince himself more than Jake."But I had to resign my job today, and I'm not entirely sure where I stand with Harvey.Put all together, this is messing with my head more than a little."

"Sub drop?"

"Yeah.It's been so long I didn't even recognize it for what it was."

"Would you like a cuddle?"

Mike had a strong urge to back slowly away, but held his ground.He gave a nervous laugh."I don't think so.But thanks for the offer."

"Where's Harvey this evening?You might want to consider spending some time with him."His eyes sought out David, the bartender, and a tender smile softened his expression."I know it always helps me."

Mike shook his head at the mention of Harvey, his friend, who was his sub, and who had until twelve hours ago been his colleague.

"Why not?"

"It's complicated."

Mike's sandwich arrived before Jake could reply, and he stared down at it, unenthused, before pushing it away.

"Have you eaten yet today?" asked Jake, voice surprisingly gentle.

Mike rubbed at his stomach, not sure if he was hungry or nauseated by the sight of the food.

Jake pushed the plate back in front of him."Eat.Just one bite."

Sighing, Mike picked up one of the quarters of toasted turkey club and nibbled off the corner.Not bad.He gave Jake a tight smile."Mmm.Good."

"Try some of those chips.They're are fantastic.Trust me."

"They'd better have some gluten in them," Mike grumbled, well aware of Jake's health food fetish.He crunched down on a chip, tasting salt and a hint of garlic."Huh."He ate some more chips and finished off the triangle of sandwich.He reached for his drink, only to find it being lifted by Jake, and moved out of reach.

"Hey," protested Mike without much heat.

"You can have it back after you finish your sandwich."

"Dude.Seriously?"

Jake stared him down, until Mike shrugged, rolled his eyes, and started eating again.When half of his sandwich and most of his chips were gone, he held up his hands, palm forward."That's it.I'm full."

Jake relented and returned his drink.He cupped one hand around his ear."What was that?"

Mike ignored him.He had nothing more to say to Jake, and a thank you seemed out of the question.He was already berating himself for revealing too much about himself, and his encounter with Sheila.

"All right," said Jake."I suppose you'll live.My job here is done."He slid off his stool and rose to his feet."If you're still feeling off-kilter, the offer of a cuddle stands, although if I was you, I'd go find your sub and spend some time with him.And yes, you say it's complicated, but here is my final word of advice:even when it seems the most desperately complicated, in the end it's always quite simple."

Mike scowled at Jake's back as he walked away.What did he know about it, anyway?He couldn't call Harvey, because … he just couldn't.They would see each other in a few days.Until then, Mike could deal with his own shit, on his own.He eyed the rest of his sandwich and decided maybe he was still hungry after all.

While he ate, he flipped a paper coaster over and jotted down ideas for a possible future career.And he signaled David for another drink.And another.

 

******

 

Late Tuesday night – or more accurately, Wednesday morning – Harvey received a series of texts from Mike.He sat up in bed, blinking blearily down at his phone.

_"Harrrrrvey."_

_"Hottie with the body."_

_"I miss you."_

Harvey was considering a reply when the next text came.

_"I'm sorry.For everything."_

Harvey scowled at his phone.What the hell was Mike talking about?That business with Sheila?

_"I may possibly be drunk."_

Oh.Well, that explained it.

_"Macallans 1 thru 18 kicked my ass.The whole fucking clan."_

Harvey sank back down onto his pillows and debated turning off his phone.

_"Do you think I'd make a better cook or thoracic surgeon or therapist or teacher or cowboy?Butcher baker candlestick maker."_

Nothing came immediately on the heels of the run-on question.Finally able to get a word in edgewise, Harvey texted back, _"Go to sleep Mike."_

_Mike: "You're awake."_

_Harvey:"And you're drunk texting.Sure you want to continue?"_

_Mike:"Come over here and say that to me."_

_Harvey:"Go.To.Sleep."_

_Mike:"First can I tell you what it feels like to finger you open?"_

_Harvey:"Please don't."_

_Mike:"You make a sound … like the happiest little kitty cat in the world."_

_Harvey:"Dear god I beg you to stop."_

_Mike:"I want to fist you."_

_Harvey:"Veto."_

_Mike:"You're my lobster."_

_Harvey:"I'm throwing my phone off the balcony."_

_Mike:"You do that.I'll be here.Vomiting up all my internal organs."_

Harvey stared at the words on the screen, not sure if he should be amused or alarmed.Finally, he shook his head and turned off his phone.Mike would be fine, and Harvey needed to be up early, alert and clear-eyed.He was due in court at nine to convince a judge to toss out Mike's case.With Sheila's letter, it should be a slam dunk, but he didn't want to jeopardize it with any stupid mistakes.

Still, as he settled back in and shut his eyes, he couldn't put Mike's texts of his mind right away.Ignoring all of the drunken nonsense, the gist was that he missed Harvey, and he was already engaged in trying to determine what to do with his life now.He imagined Mike decked out in scrubs, ready for surgery.Then he pictured him as a cowboy, with a scruff of beard, jeans tight and faded, hat tipped down to keep the sun out of his eyes, seated on a horse as he rode some dusty trail out west.

In his imaginings, the horse morphed into a bike, and Mike was once again the young man he had first met, slightly awkward, on the cusp of a criminal life, and with a heart bigger than anyone Harvey had ever known.Some days, he missed that kid.Harvey had helped to turn him into the man he was today with all of his complexities and flaws and strengths, and he might have liked the kid, but he loved the man.

It made him uncomfortable to think about Mike with Sheila Sazs.He had deliberately kept it out of his mind all day, hating the image of Mike submitting to her in what had to feel like the most humiliating way.Mike had always insisted, though, that submitting didn’t make Harvey weak, and that it took a great deal of courage to place that kind of trust in another person.With Mike, he had already been far down the road of trust, and taking things further, to the place they were in now, had not turned out to be that far of a journey.

Mike had no reason to trust Sheila, and yet he had agreed to her terms and put himself at her mercy.What must have been going through his mind in that moment?Had he been afraid?Resigned?Humiliated?A surge of affection and admiration for Mike’s bravery filled Harvey, and he began to feel guilty for hanging up on Mike.

Maybe he should have gone over there.He checked the time, saw that he only had three hours left until his alarm went off, and reminded himself that he needed every minute of sleep he could manage.It was Mike’s future on the line, and even though Sheila’s letter should be enough to get the charges dropped, he wouldn’t draw an easy breath until the judge allowed his motion to dismiss.

They would see one another on Friday.If Mike summoned him before then, Harvey would be there in a heartbeat.If not, he would be patient, and he would show up on Friday and prove to Mike that he was the best sub he could have, and that he still respected and loved his Dom, and more importantly, that he believed in him, and wanted to be with him no matter what path he chose to follow in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! (And yes, that was THAT Jake, wandering over from the Higher Powers 'verse. Also too, David.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter ...
> 
> I suppose I should mention that fisting happens ... in case that's a no go for anyone.

Mike half-expected that Harvey wouldn't show up on Friday.   He almost wished he’d be a no show, even though he desperately wanted to see him.   

The afternoon after his trip to the club, once he'd finally felt human enough to leave his bed, he'd read with a mild sense of horror the exchange of texts between himself and Harvey.  He retained zero recollection of sending those texts, which told him how shit-faced he'd been. 

He almost didn't see the final text from Harvey, which had arrived just after nine-thirty this morning:  _"Case dismissed."_   That was all.  No congratulations.  No mention of Friday.  Perhaps, he decided, Harvey had washed his hands of him. 

Which is why, when the downstairs buzzer went off Friday evening around seven, he was both surprised and relieved.  He let Harvey up and opened the apartment door.  Harvey carried his customary gym bag, and still wore his suit and tie, while Mike hadn't changed out of the same pair of pajama pants and t-shirt for two days. 

"You're not dressed," said Harvey, dark eyes examining Mike's rumpled, unwashed condition. 

"Huh." 

"What?" 

"Nothing."  Mike looked away, and then back again at Harvey’s suited perfection.  "It just occurred to me that there is probably an alternate universe not so distant from here, where you're the Dom, and I'm the sub."  He laughed bitterly.  "Which would make a lot more sense." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" 

Mike shook his head and retreated to sit on the couch, realizing he was not in the mood for this discussion. 

Harvey, it seemed, was.  "Is it the suit?  We can fix that."  He began peeling off his clothes, dropping each item on the floor behind him.   

He was down to pants and untucked shirt when Mike spoke up.  "Wait.  Maybe I prefer you in your suit." 

Harvey picked up his jacket and tie.   

"No, it's fine.”  Mike rested his head against the back of the couch and patted the spot next to him.  “Just sit down.  Here, next to me.” 

Harvey tossed jacket and tie back on the floor and took a seat next to Mike.   

Mike could feel the tension in Harvey, and regretted that he was the cause of it.  “I don’t think this is going to work out.” 

Harvey’s head whipped around to stare at him.  “What?  What do you mean?” 

Mike sighed.  He set his hand on Harvey’s thigh and felt him flinch.  “I mean this, between us.” 

“You’re wrong.” 

“Look, Harvey, I’m essentially back to square one.  I have no job.  I have no clue what to do with the rest of my life.  Basically, I’m that loser who blundered into your interview room five years ago.  The power exchange here is completely out of kilter.” 

“That's bullshit.  You shouldn't need me to tell you this, but you're more than your job.  You always were.  Not only that, but I’ve seen the changes in you during your time at the firm.  You are not that same skinny kid with too much smarts, and not enough common sense, that I met that day." 

They sat in silence for several minutes. 

Harvey picked up Mike's hand and held it tight.  "Do you know how I spent my afternoon?" 

"Kicking ass and taking names?" 

A huff of laughter.  "No.  Well, yes, but after that.  I left work early and went home, where I spent an uncomfortable time in my bathroom, thoroughly cleaning myself.  Inside and out." 

Mike raised both eyebrows, unsure where this was leading.  "I appreciate the gesture, but ..." 

"It was more than a gesture.  I came over here tonight with a specific request." 

Mike looked over at Harvey, and saw an expression he'd never seen on him before:  reticence combined with resolve.  "Ask, I guess.  You know I'd do anything for you, if it's within my power." 

"Those texts you sent the other night … " 

Mike groaned.  "Oh, shit.  I figured we could pretend those never happened." 

"Are you kidding?  That was the highlight of my week."  Harvey's grin faded, and the nervous look returned.  "So, that thing that you said you wanted to do?  That thing that I vetoed?"  

It took a few seconds for Mike to work out what he was talking about, but even though he didn’t remember sending those texts, he remembered perfectly well what he’d read the next day.  His eyes widened.  “Are you sure?  That's a big step.” 

“I assume you have prior experience?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I trust you.  I mean, I know you were pretty drunk when you sent that text, so if you weren't serious … " 

“No, I was serious.  It's something I was considering bringing up with you, but … wow.  I would love it.  You're sure you're ready tonight?" 

"Yes.  I want this." 

Mike thought about it for half a minute.  Before he fisted a sub, he usually discussed it in length with them beforehand, and planned it well in advance.  Harvey said he was ready, and it sounded as if he'd done the necessary cleaning regimen, so why was Mike hesitating?  Had his confidence been that badly shaken by the events of the past week? 

"All right," he finally conceded.  "Maybe we should stay in, though.  You might be more comfortable here, with just me." 

 Harvey shook his head, absolute certainty shining from his eyes now.  “Unless you're opposed, I want an audience.  I want everyone to see you own me, and to witness how much I trust you." 

Mike's throat closed up, rendering him temporarily incapable of a response.   He thought he might be swallowed whole by Harvey's dark, intense gaze, or undone by his words, as he continued saying everything that Mike's battered psyche needed to hear in that moment. 

"You’re an incredible person.  An incredible man.”  Harvey slid gracefully to the floor, onto his knees, still clutching Mike's hand, and said in a low, urgent voice, “You're an incredible Dom, and an amazing lover.” 

Mike heard the words, and appreciated them, but couldn't quite bring himself to believe them.  “Maybe … after I get my shit together and figure out what I’m going to do with my life.” 

“Whatever that turns out to be, it will still be you doing it.  You, Mike.  The man I love.”  He laid his head on Mike’s knees.  “And the Dom I worship.” 

It felt as if a warm rush of electricity lit up Mike’s insides at Harvey’s words.  He stroked his hair, struggling to find words.  “You know I love you too, right?” he got out on a rasp. 

Harvey kissed his knee.  “I was ninety-nine percent sure.  It’s good to hear I was right.” 

Mike considered Harvey where he leaned against him.  Just having him touch him this way had settled a large portion of his anxiety.  Despite his earlier words, he couldn’t imagine giving this up.  He’d given Harvey an out, and he had tossed it right back.  “So, you really want to do this?  You're certain?" 

“Yes.”  He didn’t raise his head, but gave Mike a pleading look. 

“Then we will.”  Mike gave a rueful laugh.  “I’ve sort of been stewing in my own juices for the last few days, so I’d better hit the shower first.   You stay here.  Lie down on the couch.  Get relaxed and in the right headspace.  Can you do that for me?” 

“Yes, sir.”  Harvey tipped his face up, and Mike pressed a tender kiss to his lips. 

 

****** 

 

The light in the room was dim, except for the soft spotlight on the table where Harvey lay, naked and on display for the shadowy group of people watching from the wide doorway.  He’d accepted Mike’s offer of restraints, and his wrists were secured to either side. 

Mike had set up a small table next to Harvey’s hip with everything he’d need.  He took a seat now on a rolling stool, reminding Harvey of a visit to his doctor.   

This was it.  They were actually doing this.  His gaze flickered over to the doorway, and he took a deep breath. 

“Eyes on me,” Mike murmured.  He held Harvey’s face in one large hand and seemed to assess him for several seconds.  “You still on board with this?” 

Harvey gazed back at him, blinking slowly.  Mike looked good, in a tight black t-shirt and grey slacks.  He always cleaned up nicely.  “Yeah.  I’m on board.  One hundred percent.” 

“That’s good.”  He stroked Harvey’s hair and kissed his forehead.  “We’re going to take this real slow.  All you need to do is relax, and if anything feels wrong, or you need to stop or take a break, do not hesitate to tell me.  Understood?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Tell me your safe word.” 

“Red to stop.  Yellow to slow down.” 

“Thank you.”  He claimed Harvey’s mouth in a lingering kiss, and then rolled the chair down the table to Harvey’s hip.  “Relax.  Let your legs fall apart a little.” 

Mike had already explained how things would go.  He started by massaging Harvey’s puckered entrance, warming him up and helping him to relax.  After a minute or two, he added lube, and worked it in, just to the depth of his fingertip.  More lube, and two fingers went in, massaging his walls, and drawing out a low, satisfied hum from Harvey.   

When Mike had him squirming restlessly, he removed his fingers and reached over to the small table.  He’d demonstrated earlier how the inflatable butt plug worked.  Adding plenty of lube, he worked it into Harvey’s rectum.  He was no stranger to butt plugs by now, but when Mike began pumping the bulb attached to the short connecting hose, the sensation of slowly building pressure was definitely novel. 

Mike pumped, paused, pumped some more, watching Harvey’s reactions carefully.  “How does that fee?” 

“Mm.  I feel full.  But it’s good.  I’m good.” 

“Yes, you are.”  Mike gave the device two more pumps.  He leaned down and sucked the head of Harvey’s stiff, heavy cock into his mouth, tonguing the underside until Harvey was groaning through gritted teeth.  “Don’t hold anything back,” Mike whispered.  “Let them hear you.” 

Harvey obediently softened his jaw and tipped his head back, moaning out his pleasure.  He’d been working with Mike for long enough by now that he could control his orgasms, but this was sending him quickly to the edge.  Thankfully, Mike lifted off, giving him one last lick.  He pumped the bulb, inflating the butt plug further, studied Harvey’s reactions, and pumped some more. 

“Doing okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah.”  Harvey felt some discomfort, but he knew that the more he allowed Mike to stretch him now, the more smoothly things would go in a few minutes.  “Keep going.  I’m okay.” 

The pressure inside him built and built.  Mike paused several times to twist the plug inside of him, and stroke his lower belly.  He continued to inflate the plug.  Finally, Harvey winced and let out a low grunt.  Mike stopped. 

“Can you take anymore?” 

Harvey didn’t even have to think about it.  “Yes.  Keep going.  Just a little more.” 

Mike pumped and pumped.  Harvey gasped and clenched his fists as a soft curse escaped him. 

“That’s enough,” said Mike decisively.  He let out short burst of air out in a soft hiss.   

Harvey still felt unbelievably full, but just that small decrease in pressure made it bearable again.  Mike left him like that for a few minutes while he wiped Harvey’s damp forehead and chest with a soft towel, and gave him a few sips of water.   

“You look amazing,” Mike murmured.  “So vulnerable and needy.”  He stroked Harvey’s thighs and traced his fingers around his stretched opening.  “Do you still want to continue?  Talk to me, sweetheart.” 

“Yeah.  I want this.  Show me how you own me.” 

Mike’s eyes darkened.  He kissed Harvey and moved back down his body.  Slowly, he deflated the butt plug and worked it free, leaving Harvey feeling hollow and empty.  He watched Mike pull on a latex glove, snapping it into place (while Harvey forced the dozen inappropriate doctor jokes out of his mind), and applying copious amounts of lube to his hand and arm.   

Harvey couldn’t stop staring at Mike’s hands.  He’d always admired their size and grace.  It was the size he focused on now.  One of those hands would be inside him momentarily.  Harvey licked his lips and relaxed against the table, allowing his legs to fall apart a bit more. 

Mike kept his gloved fingers together, tucking his thumb underneath, and shoved slowly inside of Harvey.  As promised, he took it slowly, pressing in, rotating gently, and pulling out, before pushing further in.  His other hand rubbed Harvey’s belly, and gave occasional strokes to his cock. 

The widest part of his hand entered, stretching Harvey impossibly, and making him groan, because it was both painful and alarming.  It was too much.  Tears pricked his eyes and he squeezed them shut.  Could he do this?  He opened his eyes and found Mike’s calm gaze on him, patient and full of tenderness, and he nodded at him.  “Go on.  I’m good.”  Even to his own ears, his voice sounded strained. 

Mike pushed further, splitting him open, until Harvey wanted to scream.  Then, just like that, they were past the worst part.  Mike’s hand and wrist were inside him, and his body seemed to suck him in the rest of the way.  He looked down, between his legs, to see Mike’s arm disappearing inside of him, almost to the elbow.  He could feel him everywhere inside him.  It felt as if he was pressing against every nerve ending at once. 

“Fuck,” whispered Harvey, tipping his head back.  “Jesus fuck.” 

Mike rotated his arm to one side, just a subtle movement, and Harvey cried out and bucked up. 

“Shh.  Stay still for me.  I’m going to make you come, and believe me, it’ll be like nothing you’ve ever felt before.  Let me do all the work.” 

He fucked his arm in and out of Harvey, using careful, shallow movements, while taking his cock in his mouth and swallowing him down.  He licked and sucked and worked his throat around him. 

"I'm not going to last," groaned Harvey. 

Mike lifted his head and licked his lips.  "That's the plan.  Come whenever you like."  He palmed Harvey's cock and stroked him with exquisite pace and pressure.  He rotated his fisting arm, lighting Harvey up inside. 

"Oh god."  His orgasm felt like a tsunami, rushing over him and drowning him in sensation almost violent in its intensity.  He was vaguely aware of his own voice screaming out his pleasure as his back arched up off of the table, and his wrists pulled at his restraints.  He shook and shuddered and took flight. 

 

****** 

 

The sight of his arm disappearing inside of Harvey's body was one Mike knew he would never forget, eidetic memory or not.  He could feel the strong, hot pulses of his heart, almost is if his life essence was flowing into Mike, and mingling with his.   

As he stroked Harvey off and pushed him over the edge, and his boy came, bucking and howling, and squeezing around his arm like a vise, Mike unzipped himself and freed his cock.  He was so hard and primed that it took only a few rough strokes to bring himself off, spilling on Harvey's chest while he continued to shudder through his aftershocks.   

As Mike watched him, he vowed to himself, with absolute certainty, that he would become the man who deserved Harvey's love and devotion. 

When Harvey grew still, Mike carefully extracted his arm.  Harvey seemed completely out of it, but he whimpered lowly when Mike pulled free. 

He stripped off the glove and disposed of it, then washed his hands.  Most of the spectators had moved on by then.  Mike closed the door and dimmed the lights more.  While Harvey was still restrained, he cleaned him up, and then used a penlight to check for any visible damage.  He applied a dab of antiseptic to a minute tear that he detected.  Besides that one small injury, Harvey looked fine, just red and raw and stretched. 

Finally, he unbuckled the wrist restraints and helped Harvey over to the bed.  He had to get his shoulder under his arm and support nearly his full weight.  When he laid him on his back, and Harvey gazed up at him, soft and vulnerable, half-lidded eyes gleaming such naked emotion, Mike was jolted back to a time five years ago when he'd accused Harvey of lacking emotion.  Like so many things, he'd gotten that utterly wrong.   

He dropped to his knees beside the bed and kissed Harvey's temple.  "You were so beautiful," he whispered, "coming apart like that for me." 

Harvey gave him a dreamy smile in return, eyes drifting shut before he forced them open again, appearing on the verge of losing his battle with sleep.  "You're amazing."  He grabbed Mike's wrist.  "Love you … so much." 

"I love you too.  I'm going to call down for some hot tea and snacks.  We'll head home after that." 

"I missed you this week," Harvey said more strongly.  "I missed working with you." 

"Me too." 

"So, let's find a way to stay together." 

Harvey's pleading look made Mike smile.  "We will.  I have some ideas, but we can talk about them later.  I'm going to make that call." 

"I don't need snacks.  Let's go home.  I just want to be with you." 

"All right.  We'll go soon, after we lie here for a little while and give you some time to recover."  Mike crawled over Harvey and pressed himself to his back, holding him tightly.  Almost immediately, Harvey dropped into a light sleep.   

Mike stared blindly past his shoulder, trying to imagine what his future might look like, and deciding that if it included a view like this, of Harvey next to him in bed, then the rest of it was just details. 

 

****** 

 

**Two weeks later**  

 

Harvey had asked Mike to meet him at his favorite bar.  Mike's face spilt into a grin when he spotted him at the table with two rows of glasses lined up in front of him. 

"You invited the whole Clan Macallan, I see," said Mike, sitting across from Harvey. 

"And a few distant cousins."  Harvey lifted a glass of scotch.  "Happy birthday." 

Mike selected a glass and touched it to Harvey's.  "Thanks, Harvey."  He took a sip, savoring the complex play of flavors, remembering the first glass Harvey had ever pushed into his hand.  He hadn't understood, back then, what the attraction was, but he got it now.  "Damn."  He licked his lips.  "That's some good stuff." 

"You said you had some news for me."  Harvey's eyebrows lifted expectantly. 

Mike had just come from the printer, where he'd had business cards made up.  He pulled out the one, unique card he'd had specially made for Harvey, and handed it across to him. 

"'Michael J. Ross Investigations'," Harvey read out loud.  He read the last line to himself, and then looked up at Mike with a cocked eyebrow.  "'Harvey's Guy'?  Did you really have that printed on all your cards?" 

Mike smiled back at him.  "Nope.  Just yours.  I remembered that you told me Vanessa had moved to LA a couple of months back, and I was hoping the position was still open." 

"For you?  Always.  Hang on a second."  Harvey pulled out one of his one cards and a pen.  Mike watched as he scribbled something on the card and handed it across the table. 

"'Harvey Specter'."  Mike eyed Harvey, sipping his scotch, savoring the moment as much as the drink.  "'Pearson, Specter, Litt.  Senior Partner'."  He took another fortifying sip and read the final, handwritten words.  "'Mike's Boy'." 

"For as long as you want me." 

"How's forever sound?" 

"Pretty goddamn good." 

 

**The End.**    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
